


Beautiful Boy

by Riddle_Me_This_Darling



Category: American Horror Story: Hotel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Murder, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-26 03:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30099810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riddle_Me_This_Darling/pseuds/Riddle_Me_This_Darling
Summary: Jeffrey Dahmer didn't think the Hotel Cortez could get any more interesting until a beautiful degenerate turns up named Richard Ramirez. He desperately wants him.
Relationships: Jeffrey Dahmer/John Wayne Gacy, Jeffrey Dahmer/Richard Ramirez, Jeffrey Dahmer/Richard Ramirez/John Wayne Gacy, Richard Ramirez/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 11





	1. First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I've really reached the point where I'm writing fanfiction about serial killers but, hey, they are fictional characterisations of the killers, so we're cool, right? That's what I'm telling myself, at least. It is what it is, folks.
> 
> In this universe, the younger Richard Ramirez from AHS 1984 has turned up at the Cortez Hotel in 2013. Why and how? I'm not dwelling on it. He escaped the camp (hence why he hasn't aged since 1984), and is summoned to the hotel for the annual Devil's Night. There will be no mention of Camp Redwood because I'm keeping this fanfic as straightforward as possible.

It was that time of year again.

Jeffrey Dahmer nervously adjusted his glasses and looked up to admire the towering building that loomed over him. The Hotel Cortez was as much of a dump as ever. Once a beauty in its day, the hotel was now a grimy, rotten shell. If only the city of Los Angeles knew what horrors lay beyond the walls. Decades and decades of death, decay, piss, and shit. God only knows how many bodies lay beneath its floorboards, but that was why the location was so perfect. The hotel was the triumph of the genius madman, James Patrick March. It was his murder playhouse, an example of architectural and engineering genius. Filled with hidden doors and traps, there were hundreds of hidey-holes and pits to dispose of pesky corpses.

Jeffrey smiled at the thought, but his grin faded as he caught sight of a young man across the street. He was tall and lean with chin-length dark, wavy hair and black sunglasses obstructing his eyes. Beneath them, a lit cigarette lay between his full lips, framed by a sharp, handsome jaw. He was dressed head-to-toe in black, and the colour complimented his tanned skin. For a youngster so tall, he moved with hypnotising feline grace, like a panther stalking its prey in a jungle. He turned heads as other pedestrians stopped to admire him. Two older women openly gawked, and a passing gentleman tilted his chin to hide his blush as he hurried past the attractive young man. Jeffrey sighed softly when suddenly, a knackered old car sped by, emitting a thick, grey fog that stank up the street. Men and women coughed around him, and Jeffrey covered his nose and mouth, turning his face away from the offending fumes. Spluttering, he looked for the handsome man again, hoping to catch sight of him one last time. To his delight, he spotted the youth slipping through the entrance of the Cortez.

Stepping onto the road, Jeffrey darted through the traffic, ignoring the loud car horns and shouts from angered drivers. He wasn’t normally so bold in public. He tended to keep a low profile, and he was also rather shy, but he didn’t want to lose the beautiful man. If he caught up with him in time, he might be able to find which room he was staying in. Perhaps he could put in a good word with Mr March. The young man might be able to attend tonight’s dinner in some capacity. Jeffrey’s heart was racing, but he paused when he reached the hotel entrance. The door was a portal to something new; a good thing to enjoy or a challenge to make better. Something told him the young man he intended to follow was special. The only way to find out was to reach out, open the door, and step inside the familiar lobby.


	2. The Hotel Cortez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeffrey is determined to find the mysterious man.

The hotel lobby was illuminated with a warm and welcoming light. If one briefly glanced about the room, it appeared rather grand. Vintage lovers would adore the deep red hues and gold accents of the art deco interior, but upon closer inspection, the grit and grime becomes apparent. Dark scuff marks adorn the walls, the floors are scratched, and the carpets are covered with various ugly stains. There is a strange smell; a sickly, bitter scent that Jeffrey is all too familiar with. The scent of death. The lobby made Jeffrey scrunch up his nose in disgust upon his first arrival but over the years, he grew fond of the place, despite the filth. Now, it felt like home.

Scanning the large room to locate the young man, Jeffrey spotted the back of his curled hair. Liz Taylor was escorting him to the elevator, beaming at him as though he was a celebrity. Perhaps he was. A few stray guests were milling around, and some were also eyeing up Jeffery’s conquest, although the attention of most was consumed by their cell phones. He despised those little handheld devices. He encountered one a few years ago when curiosity got the better of him, and he asked a young man about the communicator he was repeatedly tapping. Some might have been impressed, and Jeffrey was certain his father would like cell phones, but he found them invasive and dangerous. It was all too easy to take a photo, upload it, call for help. No, he did not like cell phones. He wondered if the young man from the street used a cell phone. Would he have social media accounts? Would he have uploaded some pictures of himself onto the internet?

“Should I finally catch up to the twenty-first century and buy one of those things?” He muttered to himself.

He was in no hurry, so Jeffrey sat down on one of the sofas in the lobby to await Liz’s return. He could inquire about the handsome young man, and Liz would surely tell him of his whereabouts since he too was a respected guest. Minutes passed, but Jeffrey was a patient man. He curiously watched the people around him, blushing whenever a man shot him a glance. He knew why they were here. March, ever the considerate host, would have expected some to arouse Jeffrey’s interests. Some did, but the young men were no match for the beautiful boy he had seen on the street. Simply no one else would do at this point, and Jeffrey was determined to have him. At one point, Aileen turned up, entering the lobby from a side door. Whether she had already checked in or had just arrived, Jeffery wasn’t sure. If she had arrived, he didn’t know which entrance she had used but it was none of his concern. The woman was far too brash for his liking, and he avoided her when possible so he wouldn’t have to endure her nauseating cackle for too long. She didn’t notice him as she sauntered towards the bar, snarling at any guests who stared at her strange, outdated appearance. The woman truly didn’t give a damn, and Jeffrey did appreciate her confidence.

Eventually, Liz returned, smiling to herself contently. Jeffrey rose from his seat and cautiously approached the reception desk, smiling pleasantly when the woman looked up.

“Ah, Mr Dahmer,” she said smoothly, returning his smile. “I wondered if it was you sitting over there. If you’d care to sign in, I’ll get your –“

“Liz,” Jeffery interrupted. “I wouldn’t usually ask but…who was the young man that you escorted to the elevator?”

She stared at him for a moment, searching his face with her heavily made-up eyes. The intense scrutiny made Jeffrey uncomfortable, but he held her gaze. Her behaviour struck him as strange because Liz didn’t usually withhold information from the special guests of James March.

Leaning forward, she quietly told him, “I wouldn’t try to find him or intervene if you do happen to see him wandering around.”

Puzzled, Jeffrey frowned and asked, “Why?”

Liz smiled sympathetically, and she warned him, “You’ll find out soon enough, but he isn’t someone to be messed with, and he doesn’t bat for your team, my darling.”

Jeffrey snorted and replied darkly, “When has that ever mattered to me?”

At this, Liz shrugged in defeat. She turned to pick up his key with her long, weathered hands and promptly placed it on the reception desk, directly in front of Jeffrey.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said firmly.

Jeffrey smiled coldly and picked up the key before walking away.

“I suppose you don’t require me to show you to your room?” Liz called after him, mildly irritated. She watched as Jeffrey snorted again and threw her an arrogant smirk over his shoulder.

“No,” he said. “I know this hotel inside out now.”

~

When he reached his room, Jeffrey sighed as he closed the door. The corridor was completely silent, just how he liked it. March was such a considerate man, and Jeffrey appreciated his hospitality. Making his way towards the large double bed, he spotted his usual gift: a small hand drill. He grinned and picked it up, feeling its weight. It was perfect.

With a few hours to kill, he carefully placed the drill on his dresser, folded his jacket neatly over a chair, and lay down on the comfortable bed. There, he daydreamed about the mysterious, handsome man. Something about him was familiar, as though Jeffrey had seen him before. Until he saw the boy without his dark sunglasses, it would be impossible to guess his identity. Still, there was something special about him, and Jeffrey hadn’t lusted after a man so passionately since…ever. The more he thought about the stranger, the more he realised that, unlike his past conquests, he could give or take any one of them if matters hadn’t gone to plan. But now? All Jeffrey craved was the man from the street. There was something intoxicating about him like he was forbidden fruit. What made him so dangerous that Liz warned him not to go near? Who was he?

As he pondered the man, Jeffrey slipped into a deep sleep, dreaming of the beautiful stranger.


	3. The Dinner Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeffree attends the Devil's Night celebrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels a little rushed but let's be honest. We just want to get to the juicy parts, right?

A few hours later, Jeffrey awoke from his slumber. He was sure he had dreamt of the mysterious young man, but he couldn't remember his dream. It was a shame. He did know that he needed to prepare for tonight's dinner. Carefully rolling himself off the bed, he made his way into the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. It eased his grogginess, and he also took the time to brush his teeth. Returning to his room, he quickly combed his hair, pulled on his jacket, and straightened his shirt. He was ready.

~

Quietly slipping into the private suite, Jeffrey sighed in relief when he noticed he was alone. He preferred to be the first to arrive. Being first meant there was nobody was around to stare, and he so hated people watching him. It made him nervous, and he didn’t like to feel uncomfortable. Discomfort and self-consciousness embarrassed him and put him on edge, which boiled his blood. Anger leads to sloppiness, and Jeffrey liked to remain composed and clean. Despite what one might expect of a cannibal, he wasn’t a man who could stomach overt aggression and gore.

As always, the suite was intimately lit, and the art deco interior was aesthetically pleasing; dated, but beautiful enough to remain relevant in this trendy, modern era. It was one of the prettier rooms in the hotel. Yawning, Jeffrey helped himself to a carton of juice from the drinks table and flopped down on to a small couch, sitting upright in the plush chair. Piercing the carton with the attached plastic straw, he sipped his juice contently and enjoyed the peaceful silence while he awaited the arrival of the other killers. He didn't need to wait long.

The door opened and to his surprise, it was the Zodiac Killer who entered first. The elusive man was usually the last to arrive, often turning up when the first course had been served, much to March’s disapproval. Zodiac wore his usual dark uniform that concealed his identity, and he did not speak. Jeffrey greeted him with a polite nod, and the men fell into a comfortable silence. Neither had interacted with one another over the years, but they didn't harbour any ill will towards each other. The pair remained neutral, and Zodiac considered Jeffrey to be a respite from the other larger-than-life characters that took part in the annual celebration. James March, Aileen Wuornos, and John Wayne Gacy were all chatterboxes capable of talking a person's ear off.

Just as Jeffrey slurped the last drop of juice, the door opened once more, and John entered with Aileen, both laughing about drunken party shenanigans. They were giggly people, and Jeffrey found their constant laughter and jokes irritating at the best of times. Squawking like seagulls, they nudged one another like school children until they spotted Jeffrey and the Zodiac.

"Zodiac!" John called out his name. "You're early."

"Is it a special occasion?" Aileen teased, marching over to the silent man so she could elbow his shoulder, "or did you miss me?"

She cackled loudly at her own joke, accompanied by John. The two exchanged further banter, passing one another drinks as they babbled about the hotel guests. Jeffrey was already developing a headache, and he gently rubbed his temples to try and ease the dull, throbbing pain.

“Nice to see you, Jeffrey,” John greeted him warmly as he crossed the room to stand next to the couch. “Still sticking with the juice?”

"Ah, you're all here! Excellent."

The room instantly fell silent. Turning their heads, the killers looked around to face their host, the formidable and ever so dapper, James Patrick March. He opened his arms welcomingly and strode forwards to stand in the centre of the room.

"Good to see you all, as always. Welcome all, welcome all!" March greeted them warmly. His clipped Atlantic accent echoed around the walls, but his voice was pleasant on the ear. He truly was a gentleman of his time.

“It’s good to see you, too,” John said cheerfully, tipping his beer in greeting.

Aileen chimed in, also greeting March, but Jeffrey was fixated on another figure in the room. A dark shadow caught his eye and he’d followed its shape to the open doorway. There stood a young man, leaning against the frame as though he was trying to appear nonchalant. His cool demeanour might have been impressive, but he was clearly nervous as he awkwardly adjusted his dark sunglasses. He wore dark jeans, a black shirt, and a fitted black leather jacket. He was slender, sleek, and sexy, and Jeffrey's eyes widened as he stared. Swallowing thickly, he felt heat pool into his cheeks as a light blush crept onto his pale face. It was _him!_

Aileen noticed the young man too, and she loudly asked, “Hey, March! Who’s the kid?”

"Observant as ever, my dear,” March replied smoothly, extending a hand towards the entrance to beckon the new guest. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you all to another of my pupils."

Aileen whistled obnoxiously, looking the young man up and down like he was a prized horse at a market. She then cackled and shot Jeffrey a knowing smirk, which he ignored. As his blush intensified, March also ignored Aileen’s crudeness and continued his introduction.

"This is Richard Ramirez," he said, "who you may know as the infamous ‘Night Stalker’. He terrorised this very city in The 1980s and frequently visited my hotel. You remember, don't you, Ricky?”

The young man shrugged in response, teasing March, but he shot the hose a cheeky grin and removed his dark sunglasses, revealing a pair of large, almond-shaped eyes. His eyes were cold and lifeless, so dark they appeared black but were quite mesmerising. Jeffrey sighed softly, and he thought they were as beautiful as the rest of him.

“I observed that young Richard had potential,” March explained, looking around at each of his guests. “I trained him. Whipped him into shape, and he became one of the most notorious killers this country has ever known. His very name struck fear into the hearts of this nation for it was known that he serves a higher purpose, don’t you, Ricky?”

Before the young man could answer, John, took a step forward to interrupt.

“I’ve heard of you,” he said, pointing his beer bottle in Richard’s direction. “The papers said you were the son of Satan. You were sent to prison, but you escaped, never to be seen again.”

Richard laughed darkly and held up his palm, revealing a scarred indentation of a pentagram on his hand. It looked as though he had carved into it many times, and the sight rather sickened Jeffrey.

“I’m one of His servants,” Richard confessed. “Satan is my Master, and He is generous. He blessed me with immortality and got me out of prison. It’s why I was never caught again.”

“Edgy,” Aileen muttered, snickering to herself.

Richard didn’t appear to hear her remark, and he pointed at John.

“Now, you’re John Wayne Gacy,” he said, nodding when the man confirmed his identity. Richard scanned the room, studying each killer. He looked at Aileen, and said, “You’re Aileen Wuornos. I hear you’re fun!”

“Too right!” The woman drawled, and she gave him a thumbs-up as she tossed her hair back.

Richard pointed at Zodiac and said, “You’re the Zodiac Killer. I see the suit gimmick is a real thing. You ever take it off, man?”

Zodiac shook his head silently and averted his eyes. That was likely the last time he would engage in conversation for the rest of the evening. Meanwhile, Richard turned his attention to Jeffrey, who froze under his intense gaze. He was finally able to drink in the sight of the man’s enchanting face. His dark eyes, his high cheekbones, proud nose, and his beautiful, full lips that looked so soft and kissable. Jeffrey wished he could touch his lips with his own and run his tongue over them before plunging it into the young man’s mouth to taste every inch of him.

“You’re Jeffrey Dahmer,” said Richard, and hearing his name broke Jeffrey out of a trance. Richard went on, “I think we were born in the same year. I’ve lost track of time. When did you die?”

Before Jeffrey could muster the confidence to answer, Aileen interjected.

“Is this whole Satan shit for real?” She asked rudely, ignoring the offended look Richard threw her when she referred to ‘Satan shit’. She carried on, “I did wonder how you could look so young if you were killing folks in the eighties. I’d heard of the Night Stalker, but you sure dropped off the face of the Earth. Where did you go, kid? The devil resurrect you from hell or something, or have you always belonged to this Earth plane?”

“As I said, my Master granted me with immortality,” Richard repeated. “He got me out of prison, and the law couldn’t catch me. That’s why I was missing.”

“Among other reasons,” March muttered knowingly.

His remark touched a nerve, and Richard shot him a sharp warning glance, which intrigued Jeffrey. No one had dared to look at March in such a way before. His guests held him in high regard, and all felt inclined to obey him. They treated him with the utmost respect. This young man was surely as arrogant as he was beautiful, and his defiance was nothing short of arousing.

John pointed in Richard’s direction again, and said, “I haven’t heard of you committing any more murders though. Are you a ghost too, or are you alive?”

“I’m neither,” Richard replied coldly as he folded his slender arms over his chest. “And I got better at covering my tracks.”

“You quit drawing pentagrams and all that, it seems,” Aileen said breezily, whipping her hair back before snorting loudly.

“And with that,” March interrupted, putting an end to the conversation, “we shall all sit at the table.”

Zodiac rose instantly and made his way to the back of the room, but the other killers didn’t immediately budge. John exchanged a glance with Jeffrey, frowning in confusion. Jeffrey merely shrugged.

“Now Ricky,” March said to the young man, wrapping a protective arm around his narrow shoulder as he led him to the dining table, “we do things properly here, do you understand? We each have a name card at the table, and we sit in our assigned seat. When it comes to cutlery, you know to start from the outside and work your way in?”

Jeffrey stood, and John whispered in his ear, “Something’s different about the new kid.”

Engrossed in their own conversation, Richard threw March a haughty look and bluntly asked, “Do you think because I’m a poor Mexican that I have no table manners?”

Aileen cackled them, and Jeffrey couldn’t hide his own smirk. Richard Ramirez had a mouth on him, that was for certain, and it was a particularly lovely mouth.

March tutted, and kindly replied, “You know I would never insult you so crudely. I was merely inquiring, my old friend.”

“And you know I like to mess with you,” Richard retorted, and he sniggered as March squeezed him tightly and laughed.

“You’re in good company,” March said warmly, laughing as he released Richard from his strong grasp. “Now, let’s be seated.”

The dark wooden table was set beautifully. It was lit with candles, and the silver cutlery gleamed brightly. It was evident that the table had been laid lovingly. Since there was an addition to this year’s guest list, the usual table placements had changed. Jeffrey used to sit opposite March, to his right, but he was now sat to the left. He noted that he was opposite Richard, who was placed to the immediate right of March and couldn’t help but wonder if it was intentional. Next to Jeffrey was John, with Zodiac and Aileen placed at each end of the table, forming a circle.

As Jeffrey sat down, Aileen smacked the back of his head as she strutted past, winking at him. She had picked up a spare beer, which she placed in front of the newcomer.

“Aww, you’re next to me, pretty boy,” she teased Richard, collapsing into the chair next to him. She then ruffled his thick, wavy hair, and Jeffrey twitched with jealousy. “Have a drink on me! We’ll have some fun.”

“Aileen,” March warned her, raising his eyebrow.

The woman laughed, and Richard raised his beer to toast her.

“Here’s to strange company and free booze, I guess,” he said, and Aileen clinked her bottle against his.

Although his tone was cheerful, Richard’s deep, rich voice sounded somewhat threatening, like he could lose his cool composure at any moment. It excited Jeffrey, who shuddered as he ogled him in awe. Aileen noticed, and she smirked again, locking eyes with Jeffery as she shuffled closer to Richard. She had no sexual interest in men. She whispered something to him, which made them both laugh, and she placed a friendly hand on his slender bicep. She sniggered at Jeffrey again, who scowled. She was doing it purely to spite him.

Richard was oblivious, and he took a sip of his beer before leaning forward to look around at the group, mostly fixing his attention on James March.

“So, what is this all about?” He asked, tilting his head curiously. “I got an invitation and just kind of…found myself here. What are we celebrating?”

Everyone turned to March, who smiled at Richard.

“You’re familiar with today’s date? Yes, of course, you are,” he said, nodding along with Richard, and he explained, “I formed my own celebration for Devil’s Night. Every year, I invite my most promising pupils to dine with me in this fine establishment.”

“And we’re glad to attend,” John said happily, and the rest nodded, except for Richard who was listening intently.

March continued, “Usually, we would stand and toast to the evening with our customary libation, absinthe! But tonight, I thought we would make you comfortable and let you be seated with your fellow guests.”

Richard said nothing for a moment as he processed the information, then finally muttered, “Okay.”

March laughed warmly, and Aileen joined in, cackling like a demented witch. Jeffrey watched Richard stare around in confusion and for a moment, they met each other’s gaze. When their eyes locked, the hair rose on the back of his neck as goose pimples broke out over his skin. He felt an icy finger slide down his spine, and he shivered as a jolt ran through his arms, as if he had been struck by lightning. It was as though there was a crackle in the air, and he stared openly at the beautiful face before him. Beneath his chest, his heart beat rapidly, like the galloping of a wild stallion. No matter how he tried, Jeffrey couldn’t tear his eyes away from Richard, and it felt like he was under a trance.

“You’ll enjoy yourself, Richard,” John addressed the young man, and Richard turned his attention away from Jeffrey. The spell was broken.

“And we shall toast to the evening,” March instructed his guests.

Glasses of absinthe were passed around the group, and they all raised their glasses dutifully. Richard was still uncertain about the proceedings, but he was a good sport and drank with the others. Groans and whistles were heard as the alcohol hit the back of their throats, and Jeffrey found himself staring at Richard once more, mesmerised by his throat. He watched Richard’s muscles contract as he swallowed, recovering from the shot, and his skin seemed to gleam under the low lighting. It complimented his complexion, and Jeffrey’s mouth watered as he imagined how pleasant a sensation it would be to run his tongue over the hollow of his throat. He imagined himself tenderly kissing the side of Richard’s neck and biting down on his smooth skin to form possessive bruises. He wanted the world to know that this boy belonged to him and only him. Richard suddenly looked in his direction, and Jeffrey instantly stared down at his empty plate, embarrassed to be caught.

Aileen burst into laughter again, and Jeffrey could sense her taunting grin. She jiggled excitedly in her seat and looked between him and Richard.

“Oh, ho ho!” She laughed. “Ricky, baby, I think he likes you!”

John snorted and playfully nudged Jeffrey’s arm, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Zodiac looked at Richard while March sighed impatiently. Opposite Jeffrey, Richard blushed, embarrassed by the situation, but when he made eye contact with Jeffrey once more, there was nothing but loathsome fury burning in his dark eyes.

Aileen leaned against Richard and whispered in his ear, “He does that, you see. He gets all quiet while he scopes out the hottest guy in the room." She ran a finger down Richard’s sharp cheekbone as she muttered, “and the prettiest one here is _you!_ He likes them young and cute. Dark too. You’ve got the dark hair and eyes that he likes.”

John giggled again, but Jeffrey glared at Aileen with a cold, hard stare. Richard’s eyes were wide with fear, and he grabbed his beer to take a deep swig to distract himself from his humiliation.

“Richard is such a pretty boy, isn’t he, Jeffrey?” Aileen jeered in a sing-song voice. She cackled madly, and the man wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and grab her by the throat. If he did, she would finally shut up.

March took pity on both men and firmly told Aileen, “That is enough now. We don’t want to lose our appetites before the arrival of our first course. Let us behave like adults and put an end to this discussion.”

The side door opened, and Liz appeared, followed by Hazel, the hotel’s loyal chambermaid and a trusted worker of Mr March. Hazel was pushing a tray laden with covered plates. Liz announced the appetizer, a salad, and the plates were given to each person seated at the table. While the others tucked into their salads, Jeffrey sighed disappointedly. It happened every year.

“I don’t eat salad,” he muttered bitterly as he prodded a piece of crisp lettuce with his fork.

“Nope, Jeffrey likes meat,” Aileen said loudly, leaning into Richard again. “He likes his meat lean and supple. Don’t you, Jeffrey?” She then looked at Richard’s skinny frame and added, “Not there’s not much meat on this one.”

Richard opened his mouth to snap at her, but March beat him to it.

“Aileen,” he said with a sigh. “Behave yourself.”

“Oh, I can behave,” she replied, “but I’m not sure if Jeffrey can.”

“You’re very funny, Aileen,” Jeffrey said coldly, and he purposely avoided looking her in the eye.

“I’m hilarious,” she hissed. She cackled again, and both Richard and Jeffrey imagined various methods of murdering her.

March regained control of the situation and quieted everyone down, encouraging them to eat. From that moment on, the dinner party moved at a fluid pace. The conversation turned to their murder spree’s, and the killers each relayed tales of their fondest murder memories and favourite methods of killing. They shared tips and tricks, and everyone pretended to listen when John droned on about mundane topics, such as recreational furniture. Everyone soon relaxed, except for Jeffree and Richard, who hid their discomfort behind false smiles. Every so often, Richard would catch Jeffrey starting and narrowed his eyes threateningly.

His returned stare suggested, “If you so much as touch me, I’ll rip your head off.”

It was apparent why Liz had warned Jeffrey not to go near Richard. Perhaps he should keep his distance, but it would prove difficult for he desired Richard Ramirez more than any other man he had encountered. Devilishly handsome, he was a sin for the eyes; so temptingly beautiful.

Soon, each course was devoured, and more drinks had been served. How much time had passed, nobody knew, but time did not matter in the Hotel Cortez. It moved at its own pace, and time is not linear. The evening would end when Mr March wished it to end.

“So, what’s next?” Richard asked, looking around in confusion once more. “I feel like we’re building up to something.”

“The best part is yet to come, kiddo!” John told him. Looking around eagerly, the large man beamed and reassured Richard, “you’ll see very soon.”

Further down the table, Zodiac nodded, and Aileen laughed once more, cackling in Richard’s ear.

“You’re lucky you’re a guest and not just a boy spending the night here,” she teased the young killer, and she erupted into hysterical laughter with John.

“Shame for you though, eh, Jeff?” John said to the young Milwaukeean, who rolled his eyes in return.

Before Richard could ask any further questions, the side door opened once more, and a young Asian woman cautiously entered the room. She was beautiful with pale skin and large eyes, and her shiny dark hair hung around her pale, doll-like face. Someone was encouraging her to enter the room, but Richard couldn’t see who it was.

“Richard,” March addressed him, “this is where the evening becomes interesting.”

The young man frowned in confusion, and Jeffrey watched him curiously. He wished he could stretch his hand across the table to wipe away the stray curl that fell over his eyes.

“Hey, what’s going on?” The young woman asked, staring around at the dinner party with large, frightened eyes. “I was sent in here, and –“

“John,” March said, ignoring the woman’s question. “Why don’t you pull up a chair for our guest?”

The man nodded eagerly, and except Richard, each of the killers smirked when the man placed an additional chair at the table.

“Here you go, young lady,” John said politely, tapping the top of the seat. “You can sit here. Don’t worry, we don’t bite!”

“Much,” Aileen joked, and she and John began to giggle.

The young woman shook her head and took a step back, clearly uncomfortable. Jeffrey looked away. He’d hurt many men in his lifetime, but seeing women frightened tended to make him uncomfortable. He loved his mother, and it disturbed him to envision anything happening to her.

“Don’t be frightened, my dear,” March said gently. He stood from his chair and walked around the table to stand in front of the timid woman. He held out his hand and offered, “please madam, let me escort you. You’re welcome to join us for dessert.”

Wary, the woman accepted his hand but didn’t smile or speak. She simply did as she was told, and she slowly sat down at the table. Looking around, she took note of every face staring at her, and she paused when she spotted Richard. He eyed her up and down, and smirked.

“I think I’m catching on,” he said, earning a round of applause from John and Aileen.

“Atta boy, Ricky!” March congratulated him, and he patted his shoulder.

The young woman frowned in confusion and asked again, “seriously, what’s going on? What did you mean by dessert?”

Beside her, John laughed madly, and there was a familiar chink of metal. He had handcuffed the woman to her dining chair. She realised and began to panic, screaming for help, but John quickly covered her mouth with his pudgy hand.

“Oh shush,” he scolded her. “No need for all that!”

“Richard!” March boomed, smiling down at his young protegee. “I had this young lady selected just for you.”

The young killer stared up at him wide-eyed and watched as the host made his way over to a cabinet. He slid out a tray and slowly walked back to the table, leaning over the writhing young woman whose screams were still muffled by John’s hands. March laughed at her, and placed the tray on the table, pushing it into the centre.

“Now, Richard,” March instructed him with a manic smile. “Remove the covering, select a weapon, and you may kick off tonight’s entertainment. Take your time! We’re in no hurry, dear boy.”

Aileen and John laughed, and Jeffrey watched with interest as Richard slowly stretched out his hand. He had long, elegant hands. They were beautiful, befitting of a pianist or a painter. Perhaps he was. Jeffery wondered if those hands would put on a show tonight and cut the young woman’s body with intricate, bloody patterns. To each of the killer’s joy, Richard whipped off the tray cover and immediately selected a small, sharp knife.

The young woman broke free from John’s strong grasp and screeched loudly for help, but she was quickly silenced when Zodiac swiped the discarded sheet from the tray and stuffed it into her mouth. She began to cry, and Richard carefully rose from his seat. Jeffrey looked away and tried to ignore the woman’s weak cries.

“Oooh!” Aileen laughed. “This is gonna be good.”

Richard stopped when he reached her side, and he lowered himself onto his knees. He pushed John’s hands away but before the woman could scream once more, Richard pointed his knife in front of her face.

“Shut up, bitch,” he snapped. “Don’t make a sound until I tell you to.”

John laughed behind her, and the others leaned in closer as they anticipated Richard’s next move. Jeffrey was transfixed by his eyes. He could have sworn they had changed colour. They were completely black, as though he was possessed.

Richard tilted his body forwards so his face close to the young woman’s. She shook violently with fear and shut her eyes tightly when Richard traced the tip of his small blade across her delicate throat. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he sighed and put down his knife.

“Today’s your lucky day, sweetheart,” he told her calmly. “I’m really not in the mood.”

The other killers gawked, and March opened his mouth to complain, but Richard held up his large, slender hand to silence him.

“But,” he continued, lowering his voice so that it was almost a whisperer, “I can’t stop these guys from having their fun. This is my first time, you see, babe. I’m happy to sit back on this one. I wanna see what this is all about. See what they’re capable of!”

The woman shook her head and cried out a muffled, “Please, please help me!”

“Wish I could,” Richard said with mock sympathy. He made a comical sad face then laughed at her. Looking up at March, he apologised more sincerely, “Sorry, man. I just don’t have it in me tonight. My Master will understand.”

Aileen snorted, but the other killers remained silent as they waited for their host to respond. To their relief, the man was benevolent, and he came around the table to help Richard to his feet.

“Of course,” he said cheerfully. “It is your first night, after all. Take a seat, Ricky. We’ll show you how we round off our wonderful celebration.”

“Cool,” Richard replied with a smirk.

He hurried back to his chair, earning himself another hair ruffle from Aileen.

“You’re a strange one, kid,” she said earnestly before she joined March, John, and Zodiac as they gathered around the petrified young woman, each of them grabbing a weapon from the table.

Richard picked up his beer and took a long sip and noticed that Jeffrey hadn’t moved. The blonde man was still sat in his seat, staring into the distance. This time, his attention wasn’t on Richard.

John noticed and explained to Richard, “Jeffrey doesn’t usually like killing the girls. He’ll join in a little later, maybe.”

The younger man shrugged and cast Jeffrey a final glance. The blonde returned his stare, and the two men looked at each other once more. To their left, the young woman began to scream as she repeatedly stabbed by the other manic killers, all of them laughing as they tortured her. Jeffrey was visibly uncomfortable, but he didn’t look away. Richard frowned, and slowly tore his eyes away from the pale man’s blank face. He gave him the creeps, and Richard hated to admit that he was a little scared of him. He looked pleasant and calm, like a meek nerd. But this man was a cannibal and a serial rapist. Satan knows, Richard is no angel. He’s a piece of shit too, but Jeffrey still unnerved him.

“Lord, help me with this one, “Richard silently prayed to the Devil. “I don’t trust this guy.”

Across the table, Jeffrey sighed softly.

Richard was too beautiful for words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. The story will pick up its pace soon.


	4. The Rooftop

If the small alarm clock in Jeffrey’s dingy hotel room was trustworthy, there were roughly four hours left until sunrise. Soon, he would leave the Hotel Cortez and wouldn’t return until the following year, which gave him two options. He could remain in his room like he usually did after the Devil’s Night feast or try to locate Richard. He found it unbearable to think he wouldn’t see the man for twelve whole months if he didn’t search for him tonight. He wanted to look at Richard one last time before his departure.

With a heavy sigh, Jeffrey sat on the edge of his bed. The old mattress dipped, and it almost sent him toppling to the floor, but he had excellent balance. With his feet firmly planted on the carpeted floor, he remained upright as he considered what to do. After much deliberation, Jeffrey plucked up the courage to cross the room and open his door. His breath hitched as he peered around the frame, searching the hallway for any sign of life. He couldn’t hear any movement. There was only deathly silence. He waited, listening carefully until he was certain there was no one around. Stepping into the corridor, he hurried to the elevator. If Richard’s drinking habits at dinner were anything to go by, the man seemed to enjoy a drink, leading to the obvious conclusion that may have frequented the bar. Aileen would likely be there, and March might have sourced another pretty woman for the Night Stalker. If prey were released into the wild, perhaps Richard would be encouraged to carry out a murder if he were able to work solo. It was worth a try, so Jeffrey stepping into the open elevator, hit the 1st Floor button, and made his way to the lobby. Once the elevator doors opened, he saw that the lobby was also dead. Iris was not manning the reception desk, and there were no guests to be seen, but he could hear distant jazz music coming from the direction of the bar. With quick, light steps, he entered calmly and looked around for Richard. He saw two older gentlemen chatting amongst themselves at a small table, and Aileen was indeed present. She was sitting at the bar, talking animatedly to Liz, who only pretended to listen as she cleaned a wine glass. The two older men noticed Jeffrey and eyed him with suspicion. Not wanting to appear strange, Jeffrey slowly approached the bar and greeted the two women.

“Jeff!” Aileen greeted him. She was so surprised to see him that her thin eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline, and she slid down a few bar stools until she was sat next to him.

“Hello, Aileen,” he said politely, avoiding making eye contact.

He ordered a bottle of water from Liz and ignored Aileen’s wide grin. She had the uncanny ability to see through people’s bullshit, and she read him like a book. It made him shiver.

“Aww,” she cooed, although her sympathy was insincere. Nudging Jeffrey’s elbow, she teased, “are you looking for your boyfriend?

Jeffrey rolled his eyes, and Liz couldn’t help but snort as she pushed a bottle of water towards him, followed by a clean glass. Jeffrey thanked her and unscrewed the cap on the bottle.

“Ah, you’re always so touchy!” Aileen complained with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Come on. I know you didn’t come down here to see me.”

“I wanted some water,” Jeffrey replied blandly.

This time, Aileen snorted, and she said, “But you didn’t order room service or run a tap. Nope, you came here. The first time in all these years.” Turning her attention back to Liz, she asked, “He’s never come down here before, huh?”

Liz shrugged her bony shoulders and answered, “No, not since I’ve been here.”

Aileen hummed and nodded her head. Resting her chin on her hand, she grinned and kicked Jeff with her foot, which agitated him.

“Okay, Jeff, my boy,” she said, shuffling closer. “Since I’m such a kind, benevolent soul, I’ll tell you where he is. I happened to see our handsome friend. He was heading to the top floor with a pack of cigarettes and a radio. Maybe he’s on the roof?”

“He won’t get up there!” Liz interjected, her eyes widening with worry. “We’ve locked the doors and the windows. I don’t want any guests clamouring around up there. It’ll encourage others to go up!”

“When did a locked door stop the Night Stalker?” Aileen quipped, and she laughed at the look of realisation on Liz’s face.

“Oh!” The other woman cried. “Oh, for goodness’ sake. I’ll tell Iris later. Live guests on the roof are the last thing we need.”

Aileen laughed again, then demanded another beer. Jeffrey quickly finished his water and handed Liz the unused glass. Aileen stared at him as he pushed his empty bottle away and rose from his seat.

“Thank you,” Jeffrey kindly thanked Liz, offering the woman a grateful smile.

As he walked away, he heard Aileen shout, “Oh, I see you aren’t gonna thank me, you ungrateful geek! Just ignore me then. I hope lover boy kicks your ass!”

Jeffrey continued walking, smirking as he listened to Liz attempting to shush Aileen. He considered Aileen’s outburst a fraction of revenge for all the times she had pissed him off over the years with her crude behaviour and irritating cackle.

~

When he reached the heavy door that led to the roof, he found it partially open. There was a lingering smell of nicotine, and Jeffrey was sure he could smell Richard’s scent too. He had caught a whiff of him at dinner, and it was difficult to describe. He remembered reading about The Night Stalker in the newspapers in the 1980s and Richard was said to have stank like an animal as he didn’t shower or brush his teeth. He looked clean enough at dinner and seemed to take better care of himself now. He didn’t smell terrible, but there was an animalistic quality to him. He was wild smelled somewhat earthy, like a pet returning home after exploring the outdoors. If Jeffrey were to bury his nose into his thick, curled hair, he was sure the man’s scent would be intoxicating.

He slowly pushed the door open, and it was easy to understand Liz’s concern. By the look of the keyhole, it was clear that it wouldn’t be difficult to pick the lock, even for an amateur. According to March, Richard, the clever boy that he was, was an expert burglar. Of course, he had successfully opened it. As the cool, night air hit him, the smell of nicotine grew stronger. He could also smell the city; the pollution and the desert air. Peering around, he found that Aileen was right. Lying on his back in the centre of the roof was Richard. The stray curls around his forehead fluttered in the breeze while he gazed up at the stars, his eyes shining with wonder. He looked younger and more innocent, like a curious, awestruck child. Jeffrey had snuck through the door silently and was sure he wasn’t aware of his presence. He hoped to admire Richard for longer, but he was wrong.

“I know it’s you, Dahmer,” Richard called out to him, and he sounded displeased. “I should teach you how to sneak up on people - actually, never mind.”

“I have military training, you know,” Jeffrey informed him as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. During the colder months, the city was a little chilly at night.

“I know that from reading about you,” Richard replied coldly, and he scoffed, “and you were a medic. A _medic_.”

“Still,” Jeffrey said defensively, shrugging his shoulders.

Richard shrugged too and closed his eyes. Their conversation abruptly ended as neither knew what to say. The sounds of the bustling city replaced their voices. Distant car horns, police sirens, shouts from the street below, and far-off upbeat music wove together to create the symphony of Los Angeles at night. Above their heads, a lone shooting star flew across the inky sky, although neither of the men noticed it.

Richard was a man of little patience. He hoped Jeffrey would leave him in peace but to his annoyance, the man didn’t move. His presence made him uncomfortable, and he knew he was being observed. He was used to be people staring. Ever since he was twelve years old, men and woman had taken an interest in him. After cleaning himself up over the last decade, Richard never struggled to find a date. In a bar, he only needed to flash a woman a smile, and she was his. One particular night had led Richard to a gay bar, though he had been too drunk and high to realise, and he experimented with a man for the first time. If someone was salivating for his dick, he didn’t see the harm in having fun, and he received the best blowjob of his life. The times had changed since the 1980s, and after escaping his previous confinement, Richard had learned about LGBTQ+ people. They were everywhere. He saw men and women kissing the same sex on TV, and rainbow flags were proudly displayed outside of bars and stores, especially during the summer months. He discovered that cross-dressing was even acceptable in some places, and visibly flamboyant people could walk down a street unharmed. He learned of the existence of transgender people, and Richard was supportive of allowing people to live openly as their true selves. It didn’t matter to him, so long as he was left to do as he pleased. At first, seeing queerness sickened him, but he quickly grew accustomed to the 21st Century.

Richard was now happy to play with all genders, but he didn’t want Jeffrey. He didn’t like the way he stared, and he didn’t trust him. Normally, he was fearless. He was immortal. He was Satan’s favourite son. He was the Night Stalker. He had nothing to fear…until he met Dahmer. The man made him feel on edge, and Richard knew of his depraved crimes. Even he would never have resorted to cannibalism – the thought made him sick. If they were to ever fight, Richard wasn’t certain that he would win. He was not someone who liked to lose.

“What do you want then?” He asked moodily, breaking the silence. He placed his sunglasses over his eyes, even though it was dark. He may not need them at night, but they shielded part of his face. He continued, “when a man sits alone on a roof, it’s a clear sign that he wants to be left _alone_. You don’t seem like you’re clued up on social clues, though.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jeffrey said sarcastically, but he wasn’t too insulted. Words hardly bothered him these days.

“It’s true.”

“I wanted to ask about what happened at dinner,” Jeffrey changed the subject. He bravely took a few steps forward but kept a few metres distance between himself and Richard.

“What do you mean?” Richard asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. He sat upright, as though he was preparing to bolt at a moment’s notice.

Jeffrey nonchalantly stated, “I thought you would have enjoyed the dessert.”

Richard’s dark eyes widened a little, but his expression remained blank, and Jeffrey took the opportunity to admire his lovely face once more. He so badly wanted to touch him. The longer he stared, the more it angered Richard.

“Quit looking at me like I’m a fucking meal, Dahmer,” the man spat venomously. “I saw you watching me tonight. You watched me all night!”

Jeffrey blushed, and he sheepishly admitted, “It is rather hard not to stare. Gacy looked at you as well.”

“Gacy had the decency to be discreet,” Richard snapped.

At this, Jeffrey smiled and shrugged.

“Fair point,” he agreed.

Richard glared at him for a few moments, his nostrils flaring. He seemed to vibrate, as though he was shaking, but Jeffrey doubted that it was from fear alone. If he were attacked, things would get interesting. He rather hoped Richard would leap on him. It would allow him to put his hands on the man’s lovely, slender body, at least.

“Aren’t you going to answer my question?” He asked, smiling down at his angry companion.

Richard made a face and snapped, “You didn’t ask me a fucking question.”

“Well,” Jeffrey said mildly, “I wondered why you didn’t enjoy dessert. She was lovely.”

“I wasn’t in the mood,” Richard hissed.

“Interesting,” Jeffrey noted, and he smiled patronisingly. “You’re the type who needs to be worked up before you kill.”

“At least I don’t need to be blackout drunk like you, you fucking coward!” Richard growled. “You’re really pissing me off, Dahmer, so I suggest you back off.”

Shrugging again, Jeffrey offered, “Perhaps I’m assisting you, Ramirez? You said yourself once that you love all that blood. This hotel could be your own Disneyland. It’s what March wants for all of us, to join him in his murder playground. So, why don’t you go play? Enjoy his hospitality.”

Richard snarled and jumped to his feet, clenching his fists. He wanted to hit Jeffrey, but his calm demeanour was suspicious. He didn’t like it when people weren’t scared.

“It’s not like you’re a saint, is it?” Jeffrey added smugly.

“None of us are,” Richard said angrily.

He suddenly stormed past Jeffrey, keeping a wide berth under he reached the door, which he slammed shut. He used enough force to make the frame rattle. Jeffrey laughed.

~

Another year passed, and Jeffrey dutifully returned to the Hotel Cortex for the annual Devil’s Night Celebration. He drank his juice, played a game of cards with John, and he kept away from Richard. He barely even looked in his direction, although he snuck occasional glances. Richard still dressed in all-black, and he was as beautiful as ever. He was more preoccupied with Aileen, and the two became buddies, laughing and joking about their conquests, the injustice in society, and a whole range of topics. This time, Richard joined in with the yearly murder of an innocent guest. Jeffrey didn’t. He sat quietly on the sidelines and watched. Richard allowed the others to go to town on an older woman, and when they rest were sated, he climbed over the woman, laughed, and slit her throat with the same small knife he had selected the first time. While the other cheered, Jeffrey admired Richard’s body as he slid off the table. John helped him, and he winked in Jeffrey’s direction as he slid his chubby hand down Richard’s spine, his touch fleeting enough to appear innocent. Jeffrey refused to react.

After dinner, he had returned to his room and locked the door. He laid down and expected not to be bothered, but received a knock, so he let John Gacy into his room. He brought a bottle of orange juice, and the pair toasted to the evening once more. Jeffrey knew he had come to check on him, however. Rather than ask, he waited for John to question him.

“Something bothering you, Jeff,” John eventually asked.

“No,” Jeffrey lied.

The older man snorted in disbelief and pulled out the chair that was pushed under the dressing table and sat opposite Jeffrey, who was perched on the edge of his bed.

“I noticed that you didn’t so much as look at Richard,” said John. “Last year, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. It was like you were under a spell.”

“Oh please,” Jeffrey scoffed. He leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the fan in the centre of the ceiling.

“I think he was a little insulted, you know.”

Jeffrey sat upright again and rolled his eyes at John’s sly grin. The older man raised an eyebrow suggestively and burst into laughter when he saw Jeffrey roll his eyes at his childishness.

“It’s true!” John insisted. “Maybe he doesn’t want you, but I think he enjoys the attention. He’s a poser, strutting around the place like a peacock. I saw him eye up a young girl in the lobby. I wonder if he’ll pay her a visit tonight.”

“Don’t,” Jeffrey warned, wishing to end the conversation.

“Oh, come on!” said John. “Why don’t you have a little fun? Let’s go to the bar and we can pick someone out. Remember when we used to tag-team a few years ago? We had a laugh. You got your little sex zombie, and I got to watch a master at work.”

Blushing furiously, Jeffrey looked away as John sighed.

“But I suppose you must only want Richard now,” he lamented dramatically, but he wasn’t serious. He was winding his friend up. “Why don’t you offer to assist him? Maybe he’d let you touch him while he carves up his girl?”

“John!” Jeffrey scolded him, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. He didn’t want to hear anymore.

He tutted impatiently and sternly asked, “What’s the matter with you? You’re no fun when you’re like this. No fun at all!”

“I’m not in the mood to be messed with,” Jeffrey mumbled, still blushing.

“If you’re going to be snappy, I won’t tell you what I overheard your precious Richard say to Aileen,” John jeered. “It might cheer you up.”

“And what’s that?” snapped Jeffrey.

John grinned and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees.

“Richard isn’t bothered about what’s between a person’s legs if you get my drift,” the man said excitedly. “He’s into women, but he’ll sleep with anyone if they can get him off.” John then laughed and whispered, “Ricky’s taken a cock up his ass.”

Instead of pleasing Jeffrey, his confession had the opposite effect. The blonde leapt to his feet and marched away from John to stand in front of the window.

“Honestly, you can be so juvenile,” he said angrily, shaking his head.

John jeered, “and that’s coming from the man who drinks from kiddie juice cartons?”

Any concern that John may have had for his young friend was overridden by his love of taunting people and messing with their heads. Jeffrey had it _bad_ for Richard, and he could sense how confused and jealous the man was. The thought of pushing his buttons was irresistible, so John crossed the room to crowd Jeffrey against the wall.

“If you want him so badly, just take him,” John chided him. “He was snorting coke with Aileen, and Liz kicked them out of the bar. He’s probably comatose somewhere now, just how you like them.”

Jeffrey refused to be intimidated, and he lifted his chin to look John directly in the eye.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” He snarled. “I’ll get my opportunity. I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

Staring him down, John narrowed his eyes as he considered Jeffrey’s response. He was then caught off guard when the younger man suddenly grabbed his shirt by the collar to pull him closer.

“And I know why you came here,” Jeffrey whispered. “I saw you touch Richard, but you wanted to see my reaction too. If you want me, lead by your own advice. Take me then. Take what you want.”

He darted his hands forwards and grabbed the man’s thick crotch, squeezing him through his pants. John laughed in his ear and pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“You’re aren’t stupid,” John assured him. “You’re far from stupid.”

He quickly sunk to his knees and reached for Jeffrey’s zipper. Unbuckling his belt, he slid down the man’s pants to reveal his half-hard cock that was twitching with interest. Jeffrey felt John’s breath dance over his skin as he laughed once more, and soon, he was overwhelmed by the warmth that enveloped his stirring groin. John wasted no time and sucked him eagerly, cocking his shaft with saliva as he bobbed up and down, up and down. Jeffrey sighed shakily and closed his eyes, imagining that the hair he gripped tightly belonged to a beautiful Latino.

~

An hour later, Jeffrey was staring up at the ceiling fan once more. John was next to him in bed, snoozing. He looked over at the large man and smiled fondly. Although he could never love John, he did like the man. He had been a good friend over the years, and a decent, occasional bed partner. Carefully slipping out of bed, Jeffrey winched at the ache he felt. John hadn’t used enough lube, but the pain was bearable. Tottering to the bathroom, Jeffrey yawned as he closed the door and switched on the light. The small room was illuminated with white light, and it took him a moment to adjust to the change in brightness. He blindly reached for the shower cord and pulled it hard. As a rush of water burst from the showerhead, he pulled the curtain over the inside of the bath and turned up the temperature to a high setting. He grabbed a towel and, ignoring its strange smell, folded it neatly over the edge of the bath. He then climbed into the tub and stepped under the hot water. Smiling, he enjoyed the sensation of the warm shower. The room was filling up with steam, and Jeffrey closed his eyes once more as he allowed himself to relax. Then, taking himself in hand, he began to imagine what Richard would look like if he kneeled at his feet, reaching up a slender hand to wrap it around the base of Jeffrey’s cock. How beautiful he would look with his mouth open, eager to take Jeffrey in his mouth. He would look so sexy with wet hair and water droplets running down his smooth, tanned skin.

“Oh fuck,” Jeffrey sighed. “Oh, Ricky.”

Lost in the throes of pleasure, he didn’t hear John chuckling outside the bathroom door.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad,” John whispered to himself.

John dressed himself and left, but not before leaving Jeffrey a note that read: _“Enjoy fucking imaginary Ricky, you whore.”_


	5. John Lowe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new killer joins the dinner party, and March requests a special task of Jeffrey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truth be told, I was keen to get this chapter over done with. Next time, we can start the fun!

The year was 2016, and the October month brought another celebration. 

Walking through the doors of the Hotel Cortez, Jeffrey inhaled deeply and sighed as he breathed in the familiar smell of the lobby. The musky carpet, stale air, cigarette smoke, whiskey, and decay were sickening to some. To him, the smells whirled together to create a scent that was homely and warm, like a mother’s loving embrace. Traipsing over to the reception desk, Jeffery kept himself on high alert in case he caught sight of Richard. While his interest was known, he had not formed a relationship with the man, and he wasn’t certain what altercation would take place if they bumped into one another before dinner. Their last conversation on the hotel rooftop wasn’t particularly pleasant, and it was clear Richard had a nasty temper. If Jeffrey wasn’t careful, he might get punched. Hopefully, young Ramirez was already in his room…or someone else’s.

“Ah, Mr Dahmer. It’s a pleasure, as always.” Liz greeted him cheerfully. She beamed, and her heavily made-up face was as welcoming as ever. Before Jeffrey could speak, she grabbed his key and placed it on the desk. “Your key, and you’ll find a special note from Mr March himself in your room. Do take the time to read it.”

“A note?” Jeffrey quizzed her, frowning in confusion. March didn’t tend to leave notes. “I’m curious to know what that’s about.”

“All in good time, Mr Dahmer. May I escort you to your room?”

Jeffrey shook his head and replied, “Oh no, I’ll be fine. Thank you, Liz,” and she woman smiled again then bid him goodbye.

He headed to the elevator and pressed the ‘open’ button. As the metal doors moved aside, Jeffrey could sense someone was watching him. He tensed and quickly looked to the right, hoping it was his imagination. Walking towards him was a glamourous, beautiful woman. She was exquisite, dressed like a movie star with platinum blonde hair piled on top of her head in an intricate updo. Her jewels glinted in the lamplight, and she moved with such grace it was as though she was gliding on water. He knew who she was. She was the Countess and the former wife of James Patrick March. Jeffrey had never spoken to her, but her presence could be felt throughout the hotel. She was not human, but he did not know if she was a ghost-like him for another kind of otherworldly entity. Perhaps she had sold her soul to Satan too, as Richard had.

“Mr Dahmer,” she said icily as she strode past.

“Uh, hello,” he replied awkwardly, but she was already ahead, walking determinedly towards the entrance doors. If she could leave, she wasn’t a ghost bound to the hotel.

Confused by the bizarre encounter, Jeffrey gave himself a shake and stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button for his floor and clutched his key tightly in his hand, feeling it’s sharp edges poke into his skin. It was strange to be a ghost. He could feel pain but could not die. If he were injured, he would heal instantly. When he first realised that he was dead, Jeffrey didn’t like it very much. It felt like an out-of-body experience, and he struggled to come to terms with his new body. He was a shadow of his former self, yet he could still think and feel. It was indescribable, but he had no choice but to accept his fate. Now, his afterlife was as mundane as ever, so much so that he hardly believed he was once human at all. The elevator opened, and its chime rang in Jeffrey’s ears. He hummed a made-up tune as he walked towards his room, slowly opening the door with his key. The sun had not yet set, and his room was bathed in a warm, orange glow. LA was a sight to behold at sunset as the smog and dust settled over the darkening city. Its lights were so vibrant as the freaks of society came out to play, joining the partygoers and buskers, the crackheads, the wannabe’s, cool mom’s, the prostitutes, and the spoiled ‘trust fund-adults’. Their voices harmonized with the passing cars, sirens and never-ending music that rang through the Downtown streets. Jeffrey opened the window and let them in, sighing as he listened.

 _“You’ll find a special note from Mr March himself in your room. Do take the time to read it,”_ Liz’s words repeated in his head, and Jeffrey inhaled the night air for a few moments before closing the window.

He immediately looked at the most obvious location, his bed, and saw his usual gift of a handheld drill was placed on top of a piece of paper. Upon inspection, he instantly recognised March’s handwriting. The note made him smile.

~

“I assume you all read the note I left for you,” March asked, looking each of his present guests in the eye.

Jeffrey, Aileen, John, and Richard were gathered in front of him, ready to take part in their annual soiree. Only this year, the circumstances were a little different. There was a new arrival in their midst, and most had yet to meet the mysterious newcomer.

The man’s identity was John Lowe, a detective who was investigating a potential serial killer plaguing the city. The announcement from March brought trepidation and excitement. Jeffrey felt nothing but curiosity. Richard treated the news like it was a joke. John expressed an eagerness to make a new friend. Zodiac, however, was missing; late as usual. March delivered unto them a clear warning about the mysterious new member: “He is cut from a different cloth.” As always, the host was true to his word.

John Lowe had had a run-in with Aileen, who met him at the hotel bar. She recounted her tale, informing the group that she had seduced him, taken him to his room, and attempted to brutally kill him. She made John Gacy and Richard laugh, but Jeffrey was indifferent. He thought her behaviour was nothing short of sloppy. Aileen loathed men and her burning fury made her impulsive. She needed to plan better. To think ahead, not just react in the moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand her anger. He sympathised with her. Since childhood, men had brought Aileen misery and pain. She loved women, and the world did not treat lesbians kindly. Bigotry and the hurt caused by rampant homophobia was something Jeffrey understood all too well. Her broken childhood left Aileen hurt and bitter, and she swore to take down every man that crossed her, deservedly or not. She didn’t think twice to attack Lowe, and she had recalled the events with glee. It did add intrigue as it was clear Lowe was a fighter, as stubborn as he was delusional. He thought himself merely a humble, determined detective, plagued by the loss of his youngest child. A tortured man who wanted nothing more than to do right by his family after his precious son, Holden was snatched away. March informed the group of his intentions. Lowe was a fool in denial of his true nature. He believed he was good. He believed he was right, an attitude so typical of a cop. In truth, he was perhaps the most dangerous killer of all. Lowe needed to come to terms with his true self so he could continue to pick up where March left off. To complete March’s legacy and carry out vicious crimes as the “10 Commandments Killer”.

“Dun dun dun!” John joked, and he chuckled as he imitated playing a piano.

Aileen laughed, Richard rolled his eyes, and Jeffrey remained stoic as he processed the information about John Lowe. He wondered what would be instore this evening and hoped it would be amusing.

“Come now, Gacy,” March lightly scolded the large man. “Sometimes, it feels as though I am entertaining children.”

The group amused themselves for some time. John talked Jeffrey’s ear off about a multitude of dull topics while March elegantly reclined in a chair, content to sip a glass of fine wine as he admired his pupils. Richard and Aileen mucked about with the turntable, each choosing records and replaying certain songs over and over. When John recommended a relaxing jazz record to set the party mood, Richard turned his nose up and insisted on only playing _good_ music, which meant Led Zeppelin and AC/DC were repeated numerous times. When Aileen chose Billy Idol, Richard pulled her into the centre of the room and they jumped about wildly, playing air guitar like a teenager. Aileen tossed her greasy mullet back, and Richard shook his hair in time to “Rebel Yell”, shaking his hips seductively. Jeffrey practically salivated, and he watched him intensely, unable to tear his eyes away. Beside him, John smirked, also aroused by Richard’s hypnotic dancing.

“Don’t get too worked up,” he hissed to Jeffrey, and he broke into uncontrollable giggles once more.

Jeffrey chose not to reply, only swatting him with his hand as he kept his eyes glued to Richard’s hips.

The dancing was ended when March rose from his chair and turned off “Billy Idol”, selecting a calmer, sophisticated record. Despite Richard and Aileen’s protests, March looked around and smiled knowingly to himself.

“The new boy on his way?” Aileen asked, and she sat down next to Jeffrey, who recoiled. She laughed at him and teased, “Hey, maybe you’ll get a willing playmate this time. He’s pretty – you’ll see! He likes girls, but people swing all sorts of ways these days.” Her maniac eyes quickly darted to Richard, and she smirked, “not that you care anyway zombie fucker.”

Jeffrey refused to dignify her statement with a response, and he turned his face away from her, catching sight of John who raised his eyebrows expectantly, grinning at Aileen. Of course, he would also like to see another handsome guest join them. Preferably, someone young.

A moment later, the door to the suite opened, and a nervous young man in a smart tuxedo entered the room. Confusion was written over his face, and his eyes darted around the room as he drank in the surroundings. He didn’t look like a typical cop, and his handsome face stirred Jeffrey’s interest. He certainly was pretty. Lowe’s sharp features, light eyes, and stubbled chin were attractive, although Jeffrey noted sadly, he didn’t hold a candle to Richard, who was more interested in fiddling with the turntable again than greeting their guest.

“Hey, John!” Aileen greeted him. She hopped up from her chair and rushed to his side. “I wanted to apologise for what happened, man. I wasn’t mad at you. It’s just cops in general – men in general, right?” She cackled loudly and patted his shoulder affectionately.

Lowe slowly moved passed her and looked between Richard, John, and Jeffrey. He wanted to keep his weapon concealed so he would have the element of surprise should anyone attempt to assault him, but his hand fell instinctively to his side, ready to defend himself. He didn’t trust the situation, and he had no idea what was going on.

“Hey John, come sit next to me,” Aileen offered. Out of earshot from the others, she whispered, “between you and me, you don’t want to sit next to _Jeff_ or John. They like ‘em young and cute, like you. Ricky over there knows.”

She patted his backside playfully, and Lowe warned her to keep her distance. He decided to reveal his gun to Aileen, and he warned her that she was going to leave in his custody. Jeffrey took his seat at the dinner table and witnessed John opening his jacket, showing off his gun.

“Typical cop,” he thought to himself.

Zodiac’s name was to the right of Jeffrey, and he hoped that he would be sat opposite Richard, like usual. He didn’t see the need for name cards because they weren’t children who needed to be headed by a schoolmaster but assumed it was a power-play tactic. March tended to place Richard on his right side, as though he was the favourite. He seemed to be. Perhaps it was because he was the youngest or perhaps it was because he escaped the law. It also seemed as though Richard had followed his instructions more closely than everyone else, and March was proud of him, even though Richard attributed his talents to be the blessing of Satan over any tutorship he had received from March. Jeffrey wasn’t jealous. He didn’t seek March’s approval, although he appreciated the training he received when he had stayed at the hotel years ago. He was simply observant, and he found it curious that March had a favourite at all. The newcomer could be a rival. March thought he was special enough to pick up the torch and continue his legacy, and Jeffrey wondered if Richard would care.

“No Aileen,” March scolded her, slowly manoeuvring the woman away from Lowe, “John will sit where his name card is.” As she groaned in protest and invaded his personal space, squaring up to his chest, he reminded her, “you know we like to do things formerly around here.”

“Hey, suck my left tit, Clark Gable!” she cried, and she burst into laughter.

“Ah!” March responded playfully, and he walked around the table to stand behind his seat. “We’re ready for the proceedings! Richard, put down that record. We aren’t listening to that wretched, thumping noise over dinner. Gacy, kindly take your seat.”

John had already crossed the room, and he quickly took his place next to March, feeling smug that he was sat next to the good-looking detective. He grinned as he watched Lowe flounder behind Jeffrey, uncertain of where to go. As he took a step forward, Richard passed him and snarled menacingly, which made Lowe flinch. The Night Stalker was not fond of cops. Then again, none of them were.

“Aww, come on, Ricky,” Aileen cooed as she patted his vacant chair. “We’ll have some fun, kiddo. We always do.” She looked back at Lowe, her eyes glinting with malice, and said, “shame the new guy can’t sit with us, huh? We’d show him a good time.”

“ _I’m_ the life of the party,” John challenged, shooting her a mischievous smirk. He leaned closer Lowe as the man tentatively took his place at the table. John told him, “I threw the best parties! It’s a shame we didn’t do this in the summer. I can whip up a great burger on the barbeque. All my neighbours said so! I’m an excellent cook -”

“Barbeque schmarbeque!” Aileen leered, and she burst into laughter.

“Let’s move things along, shall we?” March instructed, putting an end to their banter. “Only so many hours in the night.”

He proceeded to raise a glass that was filled with green liquid, and all but Jeffrey and Lowe picked up their own drink.

“A toast,” said March, “to our special night and our new guest.”

Jeffrey remained seated, but Lowe nervously raised a glass with the others and toasted to the evening, knocking back his drink with a groan. Aileen laughed, and John emitted a happy, “woo!” as the alcohol hit the back of his throat. Anxious for the main course, Jeffrey busied himself with his napkin and folded it neatly over his shirt while the others recovered from the absinthe.

“Please, sit,” March instructed, gesturing for his guests to take their seat.

As everyone sat down, Lowe slowly fell into his chair. He felt dizzy, and it dawned on him exactly who his fellow guests were. He was surrounded by a bunch of serial killer lookalikes. He already believed there was an Aileen Wuornos impersonator, and Liz had told him about James Patrick March, who he assumed was the dapper gentleman leading tonight’s celebrations.

“What is this?” Lowe asked, staring around at each killer. “Some kind of Halloween trick? What are you, actors?”

Across the table, Richard scoffed, and Aileen cackled again as Jeffrey exchanged a glance with John Gacy, both trying to hide their smirks.

“Who are you? Tell me the truth!” Lowe demanded of March. He gripped the table tightly as he glared at the host, who smiled patronisingly.

“I’m March,” he replied. “I built this hotel.”

Lowe didn’t believe him and argued, “The man who built this hotel died more than eighty-five years ago. You can’t be – “

“This is my problem with police officers,” March cut him off. To his right, Richard snorted. March ranted, “all you care about is evidence. Evidence, evidence, evidence. Until the evidence no longer fits the narrative you need to be true, at which point the evidence becomes an illusion, a mistake. A trick.”

“Mmm hmm,” Richard hummed in agreement, nodding his head, and Jeffrey admired how his shiny, dark hair swayed with the movement. He was strikingly beautiful when illuminated by candlelight.

March continued to tell Lowe, “you’ve lived in my hotel long enough, John. Seen enough evidence to know that what is impossible becomes very possible here.”

Lowe released a shaky breath and shook his head, unable to comprehend the bizarre situation. Nothing made sense, and he wondered when he would wake up from this strange dreamlike affair. Meanwhile, Jeffrey sighed out of boredom. The evening was becoming tedious, and he wished March would hurry things along. He didn’t usually feel so impatient during the annual feast.

Sudden, heavy footsteps were heard, and March exclaimed, “Ah!”

The group turned their heads and saw a dark figure walking towards the table. Lowe shook his head again, refusing to believe what stood before him. The figure was dressed in the uniform of ‘The Zodiac Killer’, a criminal who was never caught. His strange bodysuit was unnerving, and Lowe felt uneasy as he looked at the one identifying feature that was visible: his lifeless eyes. Zodiac silently joined the group at the table, nodding to the host. As Lowe gaped in horror, Jeffrey resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He wished the detective would accept reality and stop gawking at everyone like they were caged animals in a zoo.

“You’re late,” March reprimanded Zodiac, but he wasn’t annoyed.

Richard sarcastically muttered to Aileen, “been too busy writing letters,” and they both chuckled.

As the masked man took his place at the table, Lowe looked around the room at each killer again, breathing heavily.

“Zodiac?” Lowe whispered when he fixed his gaze on the masked stranger. To his right, John chuckled softly.

“Shall we introduce ourselves?” John asked, receiving a small, approving nod from March. John grinned and said to Lowe, “I’m John too, John Gacy. I’m from Norwood Park, Illinois. I own PDM contractors.”

The man babbled about his business, and Jeffrey tuned out while the others listened intently. He turned his attention back to Richard and watched him take a swig of his beer. As his lovely, full lips wrapped about the rim of the bottle, the sight took Jeffrey’s breath away as his groin stirred in arousal. A lump formed in his throat as the vision of Richard kneeling on the floor, naked and open-mouthed, eager to take a cock in his mouth, sprung to the forefront of Jeffrey’s mind. It would be blissful to feel himself be enveloped by Richard’s warm, wet mouth. He wanted to run his fingers through the young killer’s tangled curls and kiss every inch of his smooth skin. He wanted to peel his tight-fitting clothing off his skinny body and run his tongue over his chest, all the way down to his navel. He wanted to taste Richard, and to slide his own hot, hard cock into his –

“Earth to Jeffrey?” Aileen’s brash voice interrupted his fantasy.

Jeffrey blinked, and he heard March and John laugh. His gaze focused, and he saw that Richard was glowering at him like a ferocious wolf. His dark eyes glinted dangerously, and he bared his sharp teeth. It was a frightening sight to behold, and excited tingles ran down Jeffrey’s spine. Frankly, he thought it was the sexiest Richard had ever looked.

“You’re really lucky that pretty boy Ricky is here, John,” Aileen said to Lowe, her voice full of amusement. “Jeff might have liked you, and that would be bad news for you!”

She sniggered and ran her thumb over her pale throat, clicking her tongue. March and John grinned, and she laughed along with them as Richard slammed his beer bottle onto the table. He looked like he was about to storm out, and she quickly took pity on Richard, reaching over to ruffle his shaggy hair. He huffed in annoyance and battered her hand away, snapping his teeth like an enraged puppy.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Aileen teased, and she threw a wink at Jeffrey. She sang, “I bet Jeff wishes _he_ could touch your hair. He’d love to pull on it, wouldn’t you, Jeff? With Ricky on all fours?”

She cackled loudly, and John joined in too, both laughing like hyenas. Lowe was distressed, and March smiled calmly as he took a sip of his drink. He kindly patted Richard’s shoulder, who looked nauseous as he glared at Jeffrey with seething rage. If looks could kill, Jeffrey would have keeled over there and then. Jeffrey wasn’t afraid of his anger, however. He only blushed and calmly adjusted his napkin.

“Dahmer,” Lowe called his name, steering the conversation back to introductions. He looked Jeffrey up and down and said, “you were killed by another inmate. Deservedly.”

Taken by surprise, Jeffrey lazily rolled his head to look at him, but he remained silent.

“And you,” Lowe quickly moved on, pointing his finger at John. “John Wayne Gacy. You were executed about twenty-five years ago.”

John nodded and smiled. He was a boastful man, and it pleased him to know that his death was infamous.

“And you’re the Zodiac Killer,” John addressed the uniformed man. “They never caught you. I assumed you’d be dead. Assholes like you don’t usually stop killing.” He looked at Aileen next and said, “and you, Aileen Wuornos. You died in 2002, executed by the state of Florida.”

She threw him a kiss and held up her middle finger, laughing darkly as Lowe grimaced. The detective looked at Richard next, and he narrowed his eyes as he looked over the man’s youthful face.

“Your fate was a mystery,” he said quietly as he studied the killer. “I know you because you’re from my hometown. You’re Richard Ramirez, the Night Stalker. You were imprisoned but escaped. How? Nobody knows. I assume you died on the outside. I hope it was another group of civilians that took you down.”

Richard’s posture finally relaxed, and he laughed bitterly at Lowe’s words. Throwing him a smirk, he held up his left hand, showing off the pentagram etched onto his palm.

“I’m not dead,” he explained, and he lifted his chin haughtily at Lowe’s confused frown. “I serve my Master, Satan. I carry out his wishes and make sacrifices in His honour, so He granted me immortality. I live and breathe, unlike the others here.”

“Bullshit,” Lowe spat. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

“Aim that gun of yours at me,” said Richard as he leaned forwards to look the detective in the eye. “Try it! Blow my brains and see what happens.” He smiled dangerously and muttered, “ _I dare you_.”

“Oh, do it!” John encouraged him excitedly. “I want to see what happens. He claims Satan resurrects him like God did Jesus.”

“Hey,” Aileen interrupted, waving her arms wildly as she suddenly bolted upright in her chair. “Hey! We should have thought to do Ricky in from the start! See what happens. Do you just get straight back up or do you stay dead for a while?”

Jeffrey nodded, also curious to discover what happens to Richard when he “dies”. Richard opened his mouth to answer but Lowe spoke first.

“Enough!” The detective shouted. “That’s fucking enough!” He took a breath to steady his nerves and continued calmly, “I swear, you’ll all leave this place in the back of a cop car. This is –“

“We can’t all fit in one car,” Richard said dryly, and he and Aileen laughed.

Lowe tutted impatiently and hissed, “there will be more than one car.”

“Oooh,” John teased, and he held his hands up in mock surrender as he erupted into a fit of giggles.

“One for all of you!” Lowe said angrily. “This place is fucked up, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. You’re all actors! You’re not the real killers. This nonsense ends now.” He shot March a cold look and commanded, “tell me why I was brought here!”

Despite his anger, he was weary and afraid, which was understandable considering the circumstances. To this deluded man, everyone in the room should be dead, except for Richard, whose appearance should reflect that of a fifty-three-year-old man. He was shaking, and his pupils were blown wide with fright.

“I invited you here tonight to help you, John,” March explained, polite as ever, although his tone held a dangerous edge.

He boasted about the Hotel Cortez, his genius, his ambitions, and his wish to see his greatest protégés succeed. Whilst most listened intently, none more so than Lowe, Richard rose from his chair. Jeffrey watched him out of the corner of his eye as Richard went to look through the stack of records once more, nodding to himself when he chose the perfect song. While Lowe interrogated March, disbelieving of the reality of the evening, Richard placed the record on the turntable. ‘Sweet Jane’ began to play, and Aileen laughed, hopping out of her seat to join Richard for a dance.

“March, here,” John explained to Lowe, “taught us what to do. He’s a genius! Shame some of the advice went one ear and out the other.”

Unable to control himself, the man burst into another fit of giggles, which visibly disgusted Lowe, who sat back in horror. March finally lost his patience and slammed a fist onto the table in an unexpected display of fury. Jeffrey’s eyes widened, and he ducked his chin to stop himself from laughing. March did not normally react so violently in front of his guests, and he found it entertaining. Richard and Aileen paid no attention as they danced at the back of the room.

“It’s not funny, Gacy!” March roared. In an instant, he composed himself, gentlemanly as ever, and told Lowe, “we are the Mount Rushmore of murder. We have reputations. Codes of conduct.”

Richard scoffed again, and Aileen shot him a stern warning glance, still dancing to the music.

“You didn’t listen either,” March said through clenched teeth, staring directly at the younger man.

Jeffrey turned to look at Richard then exchanged a worried glance with Zodiac. Through the narrow slit in Zodiac’s mask, he could see that the man’s eyes were concerned. Tonight wasn’t going to plan. There was more talking than usual tonight, and it was giving Jeffrey a headache.

“Our dear Ricky started off so well. Showed so much promise,” March declared to the group. “But he became sloppy. He tied himself to a man who only let him down.” He looked around and delivered a stern warning. “We can only trust ourselves! Ultimately, others will let you down. I did warn him! I told him to remain a lone wolf. To kill alone. To be indiscriminate. His pattern would be no pattern. Leave no evidence! He bamboozled the police. He held Los Angeles in a reign of terror like no one had ever seen. The residents quaked at night, fearful that ‘The Night Stalker’ would break into their homes and kill them in the very beds they slept!”

Richard ran his tongue over his teeth and rolled his eyes like a stubborn teenager. Tapping his foot impatiently, he arrogantly retorted, “The pigs haven’t caught me since, have they? I was out of prison quick enough.”

“That can’t be Ramirez!” Lowe interjected, waving a desperate hand in Richard’s direction. “The Night Stalker would be fifty-three years old! Cut the bullshit!”

“No, but others did,” March replied to Richard, eying him with disdain. “You let me down, dear boy. Would you care to share your ordeal? They held you for a very long time, didn’t they?”

Everyone remained silent as Richard snarled, turning away from March. His shoulders shook from anger, and Aileen reached out a comforting hand.

“Aww,” she drawled. “Come on, kid. We all fucked up, huh? I was put to death by Florida! I didn’t want that. I was pissed!”

“I serve my Master,” Richard said darkly, looking over his shoulder at March. “I serve Satan, not you.”

As the host laughed, Aileen tried to calm Richard.

“Aww, you’re killing the mood, kid,” she said, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s show the new guy a good time. The fun part is coming. No point dwelling over the past, eh?”

“Touchy subject, huh?” John snidely remarked to his fellow seated guests.

Jeffrey was curious to learn more about Richard’s past. Who were his mysterious captures? Who was the man he “tied” himself to? Was he a lover? If he wasn’t held by the law over the past decades, who did entrap him?

“Okay, that’s enough,” said Lowe. He angrily stood from his chair and glared at March. “Party’s over! This ridiculous show ends now. Whatever this is, it’s over!”

He jumped when the doors behind him opened and to his surprise, it was Hazel Evers who entered. She looked only at March offered him a wide smile.

“Ah, Miss Evers,” said March. “Bring out the amuse-bouche, would you?”

Jeffrey’s heart skipped a beat, and he whipped around to see the maid drag a scantily clad, handsome young man into the room. He was clearly drugged, and his long, straggly hair hung about his face. He was quite pretty.

“What do we have here?” John cried excitedly as he leapt up to grab the young man, pulling him into a tight embrace. His grip was strong and there was no way the man could escape.

Hazel pulled up an extra chair and the half-naked man was pushed onto the seat. Lowe’s eyes widened comically, and his mouth fell open in repulsion as John massaged the man’s shoulders.

“What?” Lowe said out loud, and he felt sick as he watched Jeffrey stared at the drugged man in awe.

March had walked around the table, and he clapped the blonde killers on his shoulder.

“Don’t I always take care of you?” He said, and he rubbed Jeffrey’s head fondly. “Don’t I?”

Jeffrey laughed and nodded, his eyes shining happily. His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he slid out of his chair to straddle the drugged man. Brushing his long hair out of his face, he caressed his cheek lovingly as the man grumbled. He leaned in close and pressed a kiss to his pale forehead.

“Don’t ever leave me, sweet boy,” he whispered, and he moved to kiss his cheek. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

John and Aileen looked at one another from across the room and grinned.

“I’ll get my drill,” Jeffrey said darkly, and he climbed off the man’s lap to rummage for his tool.

“Drill?” Lowe whispered to himself as he felt his stomach drop in fear. Panic rose within him, and he knew he needed to save the man. He scrambled for his gun as he attempted to leave his chair, but he was quickly pinned down by John as Zodiac shone a bright torch in his face. He cried out in fear, desperately looking around for help. Hazel Evers had disappeared, and Aileen and Richard weren’t going to save him. They were distracted anyway as Aileen had pulled the younger man into her arms, encouraging him to dance with her again. Richard still looked angry, but his initial fury had mostly subsided.

Jeffrey took pity on Lowe and took it upon himself to explain his procedure.

“You see,” he said softly as he held up his tools, “I want to control them. I want to make them mine. To make them part of me.”

No one else heard, but Richard whispered in Aileen’s ear, “fucking weirdo.”

“And you aren’t?” She muttered back, and the two smirked as they continued to dance.

Jeffrey went about his practice and straddled the man once more, holding him close to his chest.

“I want to make them part of me,” he repeated, and he looked back at Lowe to sadly admit, “it never freaking works, though.”

As if on cue, the man under him began to writhe. He was unable to speak or push Jeffrey away, and his dilated eyes stared up at the ceiling as he swayed. Jeffrey tutted and planted another kiss on his forehead.

“They always die, like, seconds later,” the blonde killer lamented. “They always _die_.”

He began to rut against the young man, running his open mouth over his face and hair. It was thrilling to hold such a beautiful body so close to his. He felt drunk, as powerless as the man beneath him, as lush consumed him. He licked a stripe up his neck and nuzzled his cheek, breathing in his musky scent.

“Poor, sweet Jeffrey,” March said softly as he gazed upon him with a sympathetic smile, however, his eyes sparkled with sinister delight.

Lowe shook his head in disgust and began to fight against John, trying to swing for the larger man so he could escape. He needed to call for backup and save the drugged youth. He cursed March and spat insults at Jeffrey as he tried to fight his way out of his chair. His vision was beginning to blur, and he felt disconnected from his body. Suddenly, he heard the familiar clink of metal. It made his blood run cold.

“Fuck,” he whispered, out of breath. He looked down and saw that he was now handcuffed to his chair.

“My usual trick,” John sneered, and he laughed maniacally as he dug his fingers harder into John’s shoulder. “Once they’re cuffed, it’s game over!”

Jeffrey was in heaven. He ran his long fingers over the young man’s chest, feeling his firm, warm skin beneath his fingertips. Whenever he dominated a man, he felt like a god. He was powerful, He controlled them. They were his. He stammered an endearment and rubbed himself harder against the nearly unconscious man. Closing his eyes, he almost lost himself to pleasure, but he heard Richard laugh. Still dancing with Aileen, the two were cracking jokes. Jeffrey didn’t need to open his eyes to picture his smile. He could envision him clearly, grinning as he moved his hips in time to the music. He was fluid and graceful, yet powerful and seductive. His dark mane would bounce around his sculpted face and his dark eyes would flutter, long lashes caressing his cheek, as he mouthed the words of the slow song. Jeffrey wanted to slide in behind him and bury his nose into his air as his arms circle his waist, holding him tightly. It made his heartache, and he took out his frustration on the meaningless body below him, biting down hard on the young man’s neck.

Lowe, meanwhile, was also losing consciousness. He could hardly see. Above him were the shadowy figures of March and John, and he could feel his body becoming slack. He tried to raise his arms – to punch them or grasp their clothing, anything to try and aid his escape. He couldn’t move. He had no control over his body, and he felt his eyes closing.

“Sleep well, dear John,” said March, although his voice sounded distant and distorted to Lowe.

The last thing the detective heard was laughter.

~

The young man died.

Jeffrey knew he wouldn’t last long. None of them did.

He sighed and climbed off the man, pushing his corpse to the floor. Sweeping a stray hair from his face, he adjusted his glasses and regained his posture, standing up straight. He felt lighter like he was made of air. He breathed deeply, filling his lungs, as he allowed himself to relax. A familiar hand fell onto his shoulder, and he turned to find John beaming at him.

“Feels so good, doesn’t it?” He said sweetly.

Jeffrey returned his smile and shyly ducked his chin, nodding. He collapsed back into a chair with a sigh but as soon as swiftly as happiness came, it vanished. In that second, his temperament changed. Bitterness and disappointment replaced elation and relief. Anger bubbled inside his chest.

“And another one dies,” he complained, frowning as he looked down at the corpse.

“Oh,” John whined, sitting in the young man’s vacant seat. He patted Jeffrey’s knee and reached across the table for his beer.

Zodiac passed them, and he gave Jeffrey head a sympathetic pat. He waved to March and left the room, abandoning the party early.

“Hey, we haven’t eaten yet,” John shouted to the man, but he received no response. Looking at Jeffrey, he said, “party pooper.”

“I’ll call housekeeping,” said March, and he gestured towards the dead man on the floor. “We’ll have this mess cleaned up.”

“And what about piggy over here,” Aileen asked of Lowe as she sauntered over the group. The song had ended, and Richard was busy selecting another record, apparently bored of Lou Reed.

“He will be taken back to his room,” replied March, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll have a heart-to-heart with him soon, don’t worry. For now, we shall let the poor man sleep.”

“We calling it a night?” Richard asked, shouting over his shoulder.

“Ricky, baby,” said Aileen, and she danced over to him, wiggling her hips. “The night is still young! Come on, play the DJ. Hit me with another song.”

March rang a bell and Hazel Evers returned, this time with Liz and Sally. The latter caught sight of Lowe and gasped, clutching her hand over her chest. She looked to March, who reassured her that John Lowe was perfectly fine and just need to lie down. She ran to him and refused to look at John Gacy when he unlocked the handcuffs. Pulling Lowe upwards, she wrapped a protective arm around him and helped him exit the room, using all her strength to keep him upright as they staggered together. Liz and Hazel said nothing as they both dragged the deceased young man out of the room to dispose of him. Neither were shocked or fearful as they carried out their duty.

“We will retire early this year,” March told the two women before they could close the door. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

“We didn’t even eat!” John protested, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Liz nodded to March and bid him a good evening before she reached to close the door. Contend, March smiled to himself as he drained his glass of wine. Aileen cackled at Richard’s latest joke, the two of them mucking about in front of the turntable. John sighed and smiled warmly at Jeffrey, tiredness showing in his eyes. March left the table to join Richard and Aileen, and Jeffrey heard him shoo Aileen away.

“What a night,” said John.

Jeffrey mumbled something inaudible.

“Hey, come on,” the older man nudged him. “Cheer up. You always get so glum after they die. There’s plenty more out there! You know that. Just look forward to the next one.”

Jeffrey didn’t respond. He stared at the wall ahead and tried to ignore Aileen’s presence when she joined them at the table. She and John began to chat, but Jeffrey tuned them out. Instead, he tried to focus on the conversation taking place behind him, and his ears perked up when he overheard March ask Richard if he was alright.

“I’m only hard on you because I know you can do better,” he heard the man say. “Look at what happened earlier. The gifts I left you. That woman _escaped._ If I hadn’t caught her fleeing down the corridor, she might have gotten away!”

Jeffrey turned his head slightly, hoping to hear more.

Richard scoffed and told March, “I would have let that happen! Look, I had it under control. You think that fat bitch would have outrun me? I’d have finished her off in the lift.”

“No,” March scolded him. “You should have finished her off in that room. As I said, you’ve become _sloppy_. How many people might have seen you? If I couldn’t protect you, the police would have been alerted.”

Jeffrey saw Richard get up and move away from March, walking into his line of vision as he moodily threw himself into a chair. This caught Aileen and John’s attention too, who spoke more quietly.

“My power doesn’t extend beyond these walls,” said March, and he pointed to the door, “I can’t protect you when you’re out there. If too many slip by you, do you think your master will be pleased? How long before his patience wears thin, dear you? You might find that you will take your final breath sooner than you think.”

Richard dived to his feet and for a moment, it looked as though he aimed to punch March. He stood back, however, and his arms fell to his sides. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, silently seething.

“Your pride will be your downfall,” March said gently, and he took Richard by the shoulders. “You may wield a fraction of Satan’s power, but you are not a god. You are flesh and blood. You’re also better than this. I saw your potential. I nurtured it. You need to be shown tough love, and I’m not above teaching you again. If I must beat you, I will.”

“You can try!” Richard fumed, only to receive a sudden, hard slap across his cheek.

“Oooh!” Aileen cried, and she tried to subdue a laugh out of respect for Richard. She liked him.

“Oh shit!” John whispered, and he quickly gripped Jeffrey’s arm.

Jeffrey looked down at the hand covering his wrist and realised that he had rushed out of his seat. He was standing, facing March and Richard, who looked back at him in confusion. Everyone was staring at him.

“Now, now,” March said, and he took a step back from Richard, raising his hands in surrender. “No need to fret, Jeffrey. He’s fine.” He cast a dark frown in Richard’s direction and added, “I only needed to send a clear message. It seems our darling, Ricky, is hell-bent on returning to prison. Perhaps freedom is too much for him, and he would like to return to confinement.”

Richard threw him a nasty look and stalked away, taking a seat next to Aileen who wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders.

“Don’t baby him, Aileen,” March barked, though his eyes never left Richard’s face. “Despite his behaviour, he is a man and should act accordingly.”

Jeffrey was still standing, and he eyed March wearily. He wasn’t sure what he intended to do or why he had leapt to his feet, but he remained still. It caught the host’s attention, who offered him a tight-lipped smile.

“My dear,” he said to Jeffrey. “Richard needs a firm hand. I know how to handle him, and he’ll thank me for it, just like the first time. Isn’t that right?”

To Jeffrey’s relief, Richard nodded, defeated.

“You see,” March said happily, opening his warms to the group. “We can all be friends again.”

“Whew,” Aileen breathed, and she cracked a smile. “This was a mighty fun evening, I’ll tell you.”

John laughed and held up his beer to her. They both clinked their bottles together and toasted to the evening, much to Richard’s anger.

“Well, I’m going too,” he said, and he stomped out of the room.

When he slammed the door shut, Aileen looked at March and piped up, “for a supposed stalker, he’s noisy as hell.”

“Like I said,” March replied, calmly placing his hands behind his back, “he has become sloppy.”

The party disbanded and everyone packed up for the evening. John recovered his handcuffs, and Aileen grabbed herself a few more beers. The candles were blown out, and it created a sombre atmosphere. Never had a Devil’s Night celebration ended with such a resounding feeling of loneliness. Everyone felt out of place, and Aileen was keen to leave. March had to open the door for her as she bid him goodnight, slipping out of the room with her drinks. As Jeffrey made to follow her, he was pulled back by March.

“Kindly leave us, John,” March ordered the other man, but his eyes were fixated on Jeffrey.

Jeffrey didn’t know how to react. He stared back at his tutor, feeling nervous as he searched his unreadable expression. His heart began to beat rapidly, and he hoped he didn’t outwardly appear too anxious. There was a moment's silence as the two men stood inches apart.

“I think you could be of use,” March eventually spoke. He smiled enigmatically and placed his hands on Jeffrey’s shoulders.

“Of use?” Jeffrey parroted, and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what that statement could mean.

March gave him a shake and said good-naturedly, “I know you want him. It’s obvious. Hunger burns in your eyes whenever you look at him, and I don’t blame you. If I were so inclined to dine at the opposite side of the buffet table, I’m sure I would lust after the pretty boys, and Richard is the _prettiest_ , is he not?”

Jeffrey swallowed and nodded. There was no use lying.

“Ha!” March chortled, and he took a step back. Eyes glinting with excitement, he said, “oh yes, I think you’ll be of use.”

“How, exactly,” Jeffrey asked, uneasy. He shuffled uncomfortably and stuffed his hands into his jacket. His drill was nestled comfortably in the right pocked, and he clutched it for comfort.

“Little Ricky needs to be taken down a peg or two,” said March. “Take this as a…request from an old friend, not an order. You may do as you please, but if you do find yourself overcome with passion, feel free to act upon them. Take what you please. He’s not unfamiliar with the hands of men. In fact, I know he swings both ways. Or, at least, he does now.”

Jeffrey felt lightheaded, and he swayed slightly as he processed the implications of the request. The room suddenly felt colder, and he swore the lights dimmed. It was as though he was being swallowed into a void.

“Just think about it,” March said lightly, and he gave his cheek a friendly pat.

He allowed Jeffrey to leave. Dazed, he wandered back to his room and collapsed onto the bed. He scarcely believed what had just happened. March permitted him to fuck Richard. He _encouraged_ him to fuck Richard. But could he? Could he put his hands on him? The thought of scaring him, of seeing those beautiful dark eyes look up at him with fear made him feel sick. Richard was too beautiful. He couldn’t hurt him.

Or could he?

Swallowing thickly, Jeffrey looked at the ceiling fan above his head and wondered, “ _can I?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. Please let me know if there are any mistakes. I'm still working on improving my writing.


	6. The Elevator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeffrey can't control himself much longer...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise that the first part of the chapter is rather rushed. I think I've teased my readers enough, so we're getting to the juicy part.
> 
> Trigger warning: This chapter contains homophobic slurs and sexual assault.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.”

Liz smiled as she handed Jeffrey his key once again. Years had passed and it was now 2022, but time moved differently for spirits. Time was of no consequence for the dead. There had been changes at the Hotel Cortez, however. Under Liz and Iris’s watchful eyes, the hotel had undergone some refurbishment in an attempt to entice more guests to keep the business afloat. The walls were repainted, the carpets replaced. New high-teach furniture and amenities were added, and the food and beverages were improved. Everything was brand spanking new – even the air felt lighter. The heavy cloud that hung over the Cortez seemed to have lifted, and the hotel was ready to enter a new era.

“I hope you find your room comfortable, Mr Dahmer,” said Liz. “If you need anything, feel free to call reception. Myself or Iris will be here, and we’re happy to help.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jeffrey replied, offering the woman an easy smile. “I’ll head up to my room. I’ll be fine finding my own way.”

“Of course. Have a pleasant stay.”

“I always do.”

~

Ever since Richard’s arrival, it seemed Devil’s Night was doomed to endure drama and after drama, from the arrival of John Lowe to the year Aileen almost burned down the hotel kitchen after she tampered with the evening’s roast dinner. Richard swore that he had not been involved in the incident, but Zodiac had passed Jeffrey a note that stated he had seen Richard hanging about the kitchens earlier, holding a box of matches.

Then there was the strange request from March: “ _Little Ricky needs to be taken down a peg or two…if you do find yourself overcome with passion, feel free to act upon them. Take what you please.”_

Jeffrey wanted to. He badly wanted to touch Richard. He had never felt such a strong, burning desire for another man, even when he was alive. If he could touch him, even if it were merely his hand, he was certain he could die happy…at least, he would happily die _again_. He thought about it over time. There were moments when he had passed Richard in a corridor and considered making a pass. One year, Richard had gotten drunk in the bar with Aileen, and he could have made a move. John tried many times to encourage him to flirt with Richard, but his advice was ignored.

Richard certainly caused enough trouble to warrant being “taken down a peg”. Beyond the hotel, he was responsible for many deaths, all of them rather theatrical. It seemed he had expanded his hunting ground, as murders took place all over the USA. Richard splattered blood across walls, drew pentagrams, left Satanic messages scribbled all over the place. He even wrote “Night Stalker” at a few crime scenes, and a nationwide manhunt was searching for the infamous Richard Ramirez. Some believed it was a copycat. If Satan hadn’t blessed Richard with immortality, he would be a sixty-something-year-old man and the police believed Ramirez to be dead after the prolonged radio silence that followed his escape from prison in the 80s. Jeffrey agreed with March. Richard was sloppy.

At least, this year, Jeffrey had another distraction. Despite its gleaming exterior, it appeared all was not well at the Cortez. The ghosts were unhappy, none more so than March. He had strictly forbidden the residential sprits from murdering more guests in fear that the hotel would shut down and demolished. He refused to lose his kingdom, everything he had worked for. It was his dream, as well as his home. His special guests, however, were a different matter, and they were given a peculiar request.

Billie Dean Howard was a medium Iris once hired to contact Tristen, Liz’s lover. Before Liz’s death, her mortal soul mourned her lover. She missed him terribly but couldn’t reach Tristen’s spirit. The psychic became fond of the hotel and the ghosts within it, and she kept returning. After numerous TV specials, she became a problem for March. With the help of Romana Royal, a rival of the Countess, March instructed his special guests to help him rid the hotel of Miss Howard, most of whom were happy to help.

John Lowe, who had since died and embraced his true identity as the notorious “10 Commandments Killer”, offered to accept her invitation to an interview, and he made an invite of his own. Miss Howard was permitted to join the dinner party with her camera crew under the pretence that she would meet some of America’s most notorious killers. Everyone agreed to help. Aileen and John were particularly keen, whereas Jeffrey was more reluctant.

The problem was Richard, who was instructed to remain in his room and not cause any trouble.

“Excuse me?” He protested. “No way! Why do I have to stay in my room?”

“Because, technically, my dear boy, you have not left this mortal plane,” March explained, shaking his head as though the answer should have been obvious. “They will know that you aren’t a spirit, and if the authorities recognise you, there will be a media circus. A media circus _you_ created of your own accord! You know fine well that police are looking high and low, searching for you all over the country!”

“They don’t even know that it’s me,” Richard scoffed as he folded his arms over his chest.

“We can’t risk anyone seeing you,” March said firmly. “It simply won’t do. You are to stay away from Miss Howard and the TV crew, and you will behave yourself! You are not to touch a single guest in this hotel.”

“You’ll show up on the cameras,” Aileen added, and she grabbed his cheek. “It’s a shame, ain’t it? Your pretty face is good for TV. The news stations love you!”

“Oh, shut up! And get off!”

Richard reluctantly skulked off to his room, and within the hour, Miss Billie Dean Howard was sent running from the hotel. Scaring her was alarmingly easy, and it was entertaining too. Jeffrey even enjoyed himself, and he didn’t think he would have liked seeing a woman so frightened. He, March, Lowe, John, Aileen, and Zodiac all toasted to their efforts, patting one another’s backs in celebration. Just as March was about to call for Miss Evers to fetch Richard, Liz burst through the door.

“I am so sorry to interrupt,” she said, out of breath. “I thought you needed to know – Richard murdered two guests. Twins from Florida. Of course, he is a _special_ guest but…he made a mess. _”_

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” March cried, and he threw his hands into the air as he stormed towards the door. Before leaving, he suddenly paused and turned, looking directly at Jeffrey. With a curious look in his eye, he considered the blonde man for a moment before saying, “do think about what I said.”

He then left, ranting to Liz who hurried after him, struggling to keep up with his determined stride. The others looked at Jeffrey, bemused, and he averted his gaze to the floor.

“What does that mean?” John asked, poking Jeffrey on the shoulder.

He shrugged in reply and quietly left the room, smiling to himself. As he left, he heard Aileen complain, “you know, I’m starting to feel more like an employee around here. Always having to do things for March or somebody else.”

Jeffrey went to his room. Once he was inside, he leant against the door and took a deep, steadying breath. His head knocked against the wood, and he repeated the action, gently hitting himself against the door. March, the twisted bastard that he was, really wanted him to do something to Richard. He let himself slip to the floor and brought his knees to his chest, hugging them tightly. Hitting his head against the door once more, the impact was harder, and he winched from the pain.

“Dammit,” he whispered.

As he considered his plan of action, he argued with himself, debating whether he should find Richard. He could stay in his room and wait it out. He would be gone come morning. He didn’t know where Richard was anyway, and the man wasn’t stupid – he would know he was in trouble and had probably hidden. He could be anywhere. He could have left the hotel. Perhaps March was reprimanding him and wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion, but something told him that he wouldn’t be with March. It seemed it was up to Jeffrey to deal with him. March wanted Jeffrey to carry out his dirty work. It suddenly occurred to him that it might be a punishment for both of them. He wondered if it a trick to not only hurt Richard but to also make him suffer from guilt. Regardless, to be granted permission to touch Richard… would be delicious, no matter the outcome. He couldn’t help but smile. March was a clever man, and it was an offer Jeffrey couldn’t refuse.

He needed to find Richard.

He wasn’t in the bar. Liz hadn’t seen him anywhere near the lobby. Iris said that if she so much as saw a glimpse of Richard, she was going to hunt him down and strangle him for causing her so much trouble. He wasn’t on the roof, and he heard no screams when he patrolled each of the hotel floors, listening to different doors in case the Night Stalker had broken into another guest bedroom. Lowe passed him at one point, but he hadn’t seen Richard and warned Jeffrey to stay away in case the young killer was on a destructive rampage.

“I wouldn’t get caught up in it if I were you,” he said.”

He found Zodiac in a recreation room, munching on a bag of chips as he watched the TV. He shook his head when asked if he had seen Richard loitering anywhere. Aileen and John were nowhere to found, so he couldn’t ask them.

“Great,” Jeffrey said bitterly.

Giving up, he traipsed to the elevator to return to his room. His head hurt, and he wanted to lie down. It was strange that he still felt pain, even though he was dead. It seemed death did not bring an end to suffering. Jeffrey yawned, bored and tired, and went to hit the number for his floor when, suddenly, the door reopened. To his amazement, Richard appeared, and Jeffrey took a step back to hide from view. He kept still as Richard stepped inside, too busy wiping his blood-stained hands on his jeans to notice Jeffrey pressed against the wall. He could hear music, and he noticed that a pair of thin black headphones were strung over Richard’s shoulder, and there was a slight bulge in the back pocket of his skinny jeans. Richard had caught up to the 21st Century and owned an iPhone. The more Jeffrey listened; he could make out the sound of Black Sabbath. Of course, Richard loved loud rock music. He rolled his eyes when Richard looked up, noticing him standing with his back to the wall. When he realised who it was, the man jumped.

“You fucking creep, Dahmer!” he fumed. “I almost shit myself!”

“Isn’t it a little ironic for the Night Stalker to call _me_ a creep?” Jeffrey replied, amused. Before he was insulted further, he asked, “Which floor?”

Richard mumbled a number that he didn’t catch, and the doors closed on their own accord. The elevator didn’t move, but the ‘ding’ chime rang loudly in their ears. They stood awkwardly, neither speaking as they avoided eye contact. After a few moments of silence, Richard grew impatient, and he threw his hands out, gesturing for Jeffrey to do something.

“Well?” He said angrily. “Are you just going to stand there?”

“You’ve enjoyed yourself, I see,” Jeffrey noted, looking him up and down. Richard’s t-shirt had torn a little, exposing part of his mid-riff. He could see that, despite his skinny frame, he was strong. His abs were as defined as a washboard, and Jeffrey imagined running his tongue over Richard’s wiry body.

“And you’re enjoying yourself now,” Richard snapped as he leaned over to smack the button for the fourteenth floor. “Honestly!” he hissed. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”

“Well, you could have had a career in that,” Jeffrey replied mildly. “You could have been a model.”

“Whatever.”

“I mean it. You know you’ve got the looks.”

“Shut up! Like you know anything, Dahmer!”

“I have eyes.”

Richard huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, shuffling uncomfortably. For someone so strikingly handsome who had seduced many women, it was sweet how insecure the young man truly was. He tapped his foot impatiently on the floor, which made Jeffrey smile. The boy couldn’t keep still for five minutes. It was as though he had jumping beans inside him, preventing him from staying in one place.

Jeffrey continued, “I heard you made quite a mess. March and Iris are furious. Liz isn’t happy either, but I think she has a soft spot for you. She looks at you like you’re a wayward child.”

“Are we just going to stand here all day?” Richard grumbled, glaring at him. “Fourteenth floor. For the _second_ time.”

“You are a child,” Jeffrey concluded smugly. “You lack patience, you make a mess, and you bring nothing but chaos.”

“At least, I can talk to people,” Richard shot back nastily. “I don’t need to drug the people I kill because I’m a pathetic loser who is too scared to make a move when they’re sober.”

“No,” Jeffrey said calmly. “You’re just a coward who strikes when people lie sleeping and unsuspecting in their beds. You kill women and the elderly because a skinny thing like you wouldn’t want to risk fighting a young, fit man. He’d snap your little neck.”

“I can take on people bigger than you.”

“Your modus operandi certainly proves that to be true, doesn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Make me, Ramirez. Since you’re so tough.”

Richard seethed, but he turned his face away and faced the door. Jeffrey could practically feel the anger radiating from him, and he resisted the urge to laugh. He truly was nothing more than a petulant, spiteful child, incapable of controlling his temper. It was cute.

“Quit looking at me!” Richard growled. “For fucks sake! You queers’ always fucking – “

“Don’t call me that,” Jeffrey said sharply. His nostrils flared, and to his satisfaction, he saw Richard cast a nervous glance in his direction.

“Oh yeah?” Richard continued. “What should I call you then? _Faggot?”_

With that, he was slammed hard into the side of the elevator. The shaft shook, and the impact took his breath away as a shooting pain seared up his spine. The elevator shuddered dangerously, but it continued to climb upwards, the walls juddering. The two men breathed heavily. Jeffrey was strong and if they were to fight, Richard knew there was a chance he might not win. He’d fought heavier men, but Jeffrey had speed and knew how to kill.

“Alright!” Richard cried, and his deep voice wavered. “Easy! I was just messing with you. Fucks sake!”

“Not such a tough guy now, are we?” Jeffrey sneered, and he pushed Richard harder, smiling when he winched.

The man beneath him glared and delivered a hard kick to Jeffrey’s ankle, knocking him off balance. Now with the upper hand, Richard shoved him, throwing Jeffrey against the opposite wall. He quickly dived forward and pressed one arm over Jeffrey’s chest to pin him to the wall, wrapping his other hand around his throat, squeezing tightly.

“I bet you like this,” he whispered, boring into Jeffrey as he leaned more of his weight against him. “I bet you like being so close to me. You like having pressed against you.”

Never seeing a reason to lie, Jeffrey nodded, red-faced and winded. His eyes were tranquil, however, and they held Richard’s gaze. They stayed like that for some time, neither moving as they stared each other down, daring their opponent to make a move. Richard glanced downwards, and Jeffrey surprised him by grabbing hold of his curls. He cried out in pain and tried to pull away, but Jeffrey’s other hand flew to his ass, gripping him tightly as he brought their bodies closer. Richard’s cell phone slipped out of his back pocket, and it clattered to the ground. With an angry cry, he clawed at the blonde man’s neck with his free hand, but Jeffrey yanked it away and twisted Richard’s arm as he leaned forward, crushing their mouths together.

Richard saw red. He tried to scream from both agony and fear, and he writhed with all his might to try and free himself. Enraged, he kicked and fought, but Jeffrey was able to hold him in place. His arm was almost being pulled out of its socket, but he didn’t care so long as he was able to escape. It was no use. He was overpowered, and he was thrown against the wall once more. Jeffrey was on him in an instant, and he manoeuvred Richard’s skinny arms behind his back so he couldn’t punch him. To stop him kicking, he placed a knee between Richard’s long legs and ground his hips forward, effectively rendering the younger man immobile. He kissed him once more, and Richard tried to turn away and scream, but he was silenced by a tongue sliding over his open mouth. Jeffrey was becoming more aroused as heat pooled into his groin, and he ran his tongue over Richard’s lips before plunging inside, licking the inside walls of his mouth. Their tongues battled ferociously, and Jeffrey was bitten twice as Richard tried desperately to fight him off. He tasted like cigarettes, whiskey, and blood - an intoxicating blend. Some of that blood was Jeffrey’s own, and he groaned knowing that a part of him would be swallowed by this beautiful man, and he desperately wanted more. Richard was struggling far less as the attack on his mouth had startled him, and Jeffrey felt it was safe to let go of his arm. He slid his hand down the side of Richard's body to feel his lean frame. Although Jeffrey knew this man was a dangerous, skilled killer, his slender waist felt delicate under his hands. It was a huge turn on as he loved to feel dominant. Brushing a hand over Richard’s protruding ribs, a malicious voice in his subconscious dared him to press down hard and snap the bone.

“ _Do it,”_ the voice whispered. “ _Make him pay. Make him scream.”_

But Jeffrey couldn’t. He didn’t truly like hurting people. He liked his lovers to be compliant. He wanted them to stay and be his forever. He wanted to love them and to hold them. He wished Richard would stop wriggling and give in to lust, but he couldn’t deny how exciting it was to watch him squirm beneath his hands.

“You bastard!” the killer shouted when Jeffrey momentarily stopped kissing him, but his lips quickly returned.

As Jeffrey’s fingers reached the bottom of Richard’s torn shirt, they lingered there as he sucked on Richard’s tongue. He could feel the man’s flushed skin and hard abs, and his cock stirred in his pants. He was fully hard and there no doubt that Richard would feel his erection rubbing against his own groin. Tracing his fingers over Richard’s stomach, Jeffrey moaned and began to slide his hand upwards, scratching the man’s scrawny chest with his uneven nails until he reached a nipple.

Richard managed to turn his head away, and he pleaded, “Dahmer, stop!”

Jeffrey didn’t stop. He nuzzled into his neck and peppered his skin with kisses and bites as he stroked the erect nipple under his fingers. Pressing his knee harder against Richard, he felt the man’s erection – he was semi-hard.

“Oh, you _are_ enjoying this, aren’t you?” He whispered breathlessly, and he grinned against Richard’s skin.

“Dahmer,” the man said weakly. “Stop.”

Jeffery bit down on his neck hard, and Richard howled. He thrashed and fought, but Jeffrey only held him tighter. He ran his lips over his skin, all the way up to his ear, which he kissed. The sound made Richard shudder, and he repeatedly begged for Jeffrey to stop.

Overcome with lust, Jeffrey reached for Richard’s ass once more and groped him, enjoying its firmness. He returned his attention to Richard’s thin neck, planting tender kisses over the skin he had bruised with small nips and bites. He chuckled knowing that Richard was going to look like a whore covered with so many marks. It felt possessive like Jeffrey owned him. It would display to the world that he had his way with the man, and no one else could touch him.

Behind them, the elevator doors opened.

“For fuck’s sake!” Richard cried. “Dahmer, _cut it out!”_

“Why don’t you ask Satan for help?” he replied scornfully, laughing softly at the other man’s disgust.

“I wouldn’t disrespect Him if I were you,” Richard warned him, and he tried to fight again, struggling to break free.

“It’s of no consequence now, is it?” Jeffrey taunted, and he grasped the man’s chin to force him to look at his face. “Your master isn’t doing anything to save you right now, is he?”

“That’s now how it fucking works!” Richard seethed, and he tried to headbutt him.

Jeffrey leaned back to avoid the assault, and it allowed Richard to fight him once more. They struggled against one another, and Jeffrey received a hard kick to the stomach. He was glad it wasn’t his balls, or he would have keeled over. He quickly backed Richard into a corner, pinning him to the wall again. They were making a racket, and he wondered if anyone else in the hotel could hear them fighting. As Richard snapped his teeth, Jeffrey leered and reached down a hand. Sensing what he was about to do, Richard tried to kick him once more but to no avail, and he gasped when he felt Jeffrey wrapped his hand around his groin.

“Fuck off,” he began to complain, but a hand was placed over his mouth.

“You’re enjoying this too,” said Jeffrey and to prove his point, he squeezed Richard’s cock harder.

He smiled when he felt Richard hiss under his hand, and he leaned in to press a feather-light kiss onto his cheek. Richard shook his head and cursed, but his words were muffled by the hand on his mouth. He thrashed about and swung for Jeffrey, but the blonde man ground his body against his once more. Still massaging Richard through his trousers, Jeffrey kissed along his collarbone and gently bit the skin. He nibbled along the bone until he reached the hollow of his throat, where he planted a wet kiss. Moving his lips upwards, he ignored the string of protests and curses from Richard as he tenderly kissed along his jaw. He lapped at his skin and carefully began to move his hand away from Richard’s dick, up to the zipper on his jeans.

“You better not fucking –“ Richard cried, but his threat was cut off as Jeffrey forced his tongue into his mouth, kissing him more aggressively.

“Oh my,” came a familiar voice. “What do we have here?”

The two men whipped their heads around to find John Gacy grinning at them from outside the elevator door. Before it could close, he hit the ‘open’ button and looked them up and down.

“Jeff has wanted you for so long,” he told Richard as he eyed him hungrily. “I’m jealous, I must admit.”

“Leave, Gacy,” Jeffrey said firmly.

“Fair enough, you want him to yourself,” John replied with a shrug.

Suddenly, Richard darted forward and managed to knock Jeffrey to the ground. He bolted but tripped over his fallen cell phone. His headphones tangled around his arm, and he swatted at John’s hands as he made to grab him. He was unsuccessful, and the portly man threw him backwards. Still on the ground, Jeffrey held his arms out to catch him in case Richard hit his head against the wall and knocked himself unconscious.

Wrapping Richard in a protective embrace, he whispered against the back of his head, “It’s okay. Just keep still.”

John joined them in the elevator and pressed the button to close the door. He looked down at the men silently and smiled sweetly.

“You two make a cute couple,” he remarked, and he let out a booming laugh.

Richard began to shake in Jeffrey’s arms, but he tried to hide his fear by glaring murderously at John. He bared his teeth, but his eye lost a degree of ferociousness when a felt Jeffrey hug him tighter.

“John,” said Jeffrey, “I...you can go. Everything’s fine.”

“I can hold him for you,” the larger man replied and to Richard’s horror, he knelt in front of them. Reaching out a hand, he lifted Richard’s chin and said, “Jeff, he really is lovely.”

“Go, John,” Jeffrey repeated.

“Fuck off, Gacy,” Richard snarled, and he tried to kick the man.

His leg was pinned down, and he whimpered as John slowly ran his hand up his leg. It made him panic, and Richard watched as Jeffrey reached out to smack John’s wandering hand away from his body.

“Leave him, John!” He ordered, and he slowly helped Richard to his feet.

John’s eyes widened and he asked, “Well, why should you have all the fun?”

“Fuck both of you!” Richard raged, and he tried to push past them once more.

He gasped when John latched onto his narrow waist, hoping to hold him in place, but Jeffrey took hold of his shoulders, pulling him backwards. Before he realised what he was doing, Richard grabbed for Jeffrey’s jacket, clinging to him out of fear. He couldn’t see it, but his action made Jeffrey smile, and he felt affection for Richard bubble up inside him.

“It’s okay, Ricky,” he said softly. “He won’t hurt you.”

“The fuck he won’t!” Richard snapped in reply.

“He’s just going to make a run for it, Jeff,” said John, and he released Richard, holding his palms up in surrender. “If you let me hold him, you can do what you want. Show him how much you love him. He’ll not get away from you.”

“John,” Jeff replied quietly, shaking his head. “Don’t worry.”

“I’ll get both of you for this” Richard shouted, and he began to scream, “HELP! HELP! AILEEN!”

Jeffrey tried to soothe him, but John laughed darkly and sniggered, “She won’t hear you, silly! Nobody is coming.”

“John, I’m letting him go,” Jeffrey warned him, a note of panic creeping into his voice. “He can go. Ricky can go.”

He pleaded with his eyes and hoped his friend would agree to let the young killer go free. He was sick with guilt at what he’d done, and he regretted forcing himself onto Richard, who was shaking like a leaf.

“You can go, if you want,” John said with a shrug, and he looked Richard up and down. He added, “after the havoc this one caused, I think he needs to be taught a lesson.”

Richard lunged forward and tried to tackle him, but Jeffrey predicted what would happen and tried to save him. He wasn’t quick enough, and John grabbed Richard by the hair and tossed him onto the floor with a loud thud. As Jeffrey tried to grapple with him, he lost his balance, and John pushed him aside as he straddled Richard’s back, pushing his shoulders down to stop him from writhing. Soon followed the all too familiar chink of metal, and Richard’s thin wrists were cuffed behind his back.

“John, no!” Jeffrey cried, and he pushed the larger man against the elevator door.

John grinned madly, and Jeffrey had never seen him look so deranged. The ‘Killer Clown’ revealed his true, dangerous colours, and he worried about Richard’s wellbeing. Slamming his fist against the ‘open door’ button, he tried to push John out of the elevator, but the man wouldn’t move. He gripped the frame of the doors and refused to budge, laughing at Jeffrey’s attempts to shove him.

“HELP!” Richard shouted. “This fucking asshole is trying to kill us! AILEEN! MARCH! JOHN! LIZ!”

“You won’t get the key either,” John panted, and he nodded his head toward Richard. “There’s only one way he’s getting out of those cuffs.”

“SALLY! IRIS! JOHN! FUCKING _ANYBODY?”_

“Jeff, tell him to shut up.”

Jeffrey sighed and lowered himself to the ground, not taking his eyes off John, as he touched Richard’s shoulder. He gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“Shush, Richard. Nobody’s coming.”

The young man wriggled and rolled himself onto his side as he made to stand up. John didn’t protest, so Jeffrey took hold of his waist and pulled him upright. Richard kicked at them both, and he started shouting again. John growled, and Jeffrey pulled Richard away from him, placing himself in front of the large killer.

“You’ve made your point,” he said to John. “We’re on good terms you and I, so let’s not cause a scene, huh? Richard knows better than to cause trouble in the future. He’ll kill when instructed, not when he wants to.”

“The fuck I will!” Richard spat, and he received a hard elbow in the ribs from Jeffrey. “Ow. Hey!”

“ _Would you shush?”_ Jeffrey hissed.

John laughed and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his sweaty brow. He then ran his fingers over his moustache as he started the two men down. The elevator doors closed again.

“Sure. We’re buddies, aren’t we, Jeff?” He said cheerfully, but his eyes held no warmth and it made Jeffrey uncomfortable. “Why don’t we make a compromise? I’ll do you a solid.”

“No, John – “

“Kiss him,” John instructed Richard, no longer looking at Jeffrey. “Kiss him like you mean it. Make him happy. He’s saved your ass, after all. I’m not so nice, you see.”

“You’re a piece of shit!” Richard shouted, and he stupidly tried to kick John once more.

“John, that’s enough, really!” Jeffrey cried.

The man chuckled and calmly placed his hands behind his back. He stepped closer, and Richard recoiled. Sensing his terror, Jeffrey reached behind him and placed a comforting hand on his waist.

“Enough,” he repeated, and he held out his other hand in front of John to stop him from moving closer.

“Let Richard kiss you,” said John. “Let him kiss you, and you can both go.”

“Screw you!” Richard yelled, but his voice trembled. He clung to Jeffrey’s jacket, although he wasn’t certain as to why since the man had previously violated him. He trusted Jeffrey more than John and prayed that he would be able to convince John to let them leave.

“John,” Jeffrey said angrily. “Seriously, quit it! Let Richard go, now!”

“Who are you to order me around?” John spat.

“A friend,” Jeffrey croaked, and he pleaded with his eyes.

“And I’m doing this for you, buddy,” John replied, grinning wickedly. “You had your tongue shoved down his throat a few minutes ago. Don’t play Superman now. Let the kid kiss you. You can enjoy yourself.”

“It was a mistake,” Jeffrey said weakly. “I’m sorry, Richard.”

The hands grasping his jacket tightened their grip, and Jeffrey smiled sadly as he reached his hand up to place it over Richard’s quivering hands.

“It’s okay,” he said to calm him.

“Just get rid of him!” Richard replied snappishly.

“Those handcuffs won’t be coming off then,” John smirked.

Growing frustrated, shuffled to the right and placed himself in front of the elevator buttons. It stopped the two men from darting forward and pressing the ‘emergency’ button, and it also placed him near the door. There was no way for them to escape without a fight, and it wouldn’t be an easy one.

“This is tedious,” Jeffrey remarked and frowned at his friend.

“Too right it is,” John agreed, and he folded his arms over his wide chest. “So, kiss little Ricky here and you can go. Get it over with.”

“What the fuck do you get out of it, freak?” Richard retorted.

John snorted and replied, “I get to watch.”

Richard lunged forward again, and Jeffrey held him back, shouting for him to calm down. They fought against each other while John giggled, finding their antics amusing. The men ended up toppling to the floor as Richard lost his footing, with Jeffrey falling on top of him. Richard cried out in pain and John laughed harder.

“There, perfect!” He cried.

Before they could stand up, John kneeled once again. He grabbed Jeffrey by the hair, which made him groan, and he pushed his face closer to Richard’s, who cried, “fuck no!”

“Kiss him, Jeff.”

“NO!” Jeffrey exploded, and he pushed John away.

He grabbed his throat and began strangling him. Seeing his opportunity, Richard scrambled to his feet and threw himself across the elevator to try and kick the ‘open’ button, but John managed to grab his ankle. He was swung to the left and knocked to the floor. Jeffrey’s eyes flew wide open, and he wailed like a wild animal as he strangled John harder, cutting off his air supply. The man under his hands began to turn red and his body went limp. Releasing his grip, a little, Jeffrey wanted to check if he was, in fact, breathing. It was a huge mistake. Before he could stop John, he was pushed against the wall. The larger man pinned him down and Richard began to kick him, screaming for John to let go of Jeffrey. John swiped at him, and at a surprising speed for a large man, he stood and covered the elevator buttons with his body once more, preventing them from leaving.

“Nice try, Jeff,” he said, red-faced and out of breath.

“You fat fuck!” Richard screamed, and he repeatedly kicked his shin, trying to knock John over.

“Oh, save it, you little rat!” John wheezed, and he kicked Richard in return, aiming for the centre of his chest.

It hurt, and Richard fell to the floor. Jeffrey cursed at John and hurried to pull Richard into his arms, cradling him against his chest. He ran a hand through his hair, stroking his scalp as he glared up at his friend-turned-foe.

“Was all this necessary?” Jeffrey scowled.

And before anyone could speak, Richard suddenly flung himself upwards and connected his lips with Jeffrey’s, kissing him roughly.

Jeffrey’s heart stopped. His body froze, and he felt tingles run down his spine. His eyes were wide open, but he couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t think. He could only feel. Richard’s lips were pressed against his, and he didn’t initiate the kiss. His hands automatically gripped Richard’s body tighter but as soon as the kiss came, it went.

Richard pulled away in a matter of seconds.

“Happy?” He asked John.

Jeffrey was breathless, staring at him as though he was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. Richard glanced at him, and it made him blush. Ducking his chin, he tried to hide his embarrassment, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Aww, Jeff,” John cooed. “You made little Ricky blush!”

The two men on the floor averted their eyes shyly, both too embarrassed to speak.

“But I think you can do better,” John said lowly. “Where has the passion gone? When I first saw you both, it looked like Jeff was about to eat you alive.” He glanced down and noticed Jeffrey’s lack of bulge and added, “I see the fire has burnt out though.”

“He probably would eat me alive,” Richard mumbled grumpily, but his gaze held no malice when he turned to look at Jeffrey. He sighed in defeat and said, “Jeff, just fucking kiss me. Give me him what he wants so we can get out of here.”

“Do what he says, Jeff,” John coaxed him, smiling evilly. “I’m sure Ricky here can get you going again, won’t you, pretty boy?”

Jeffrey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he saw Richard staring up at him expectantly. It brought him immense sadness knowing that Richard would never look at him like that again. He only longed for his kiss because he wanted to escape the clutches of two predators that wanted to fuck him. Knowing he was one of them made Jeffrey feel nauseous, and he couldn’t begin to find the words to apologise.

“Come on then,” Richard said tiredly. “You were all over me before. Kiss me.”

“And I want a good show,” John warned him, and he curled his fists threateningly.

Jeffrey shuddered and cast one final glare at John before he pulled Richard closer, twisting his body so Richard lay sideways in his arms. With a shaky breath, he leaned down and softly brought their lips together, kissing him gently. For a few moments, he did nothing but press his lips against Richard’s full, soft mouth. It felt romantic and sweet, like he was having his first kiss all over again. As Jeffrey began to apply more pressure, he felt butterflies in his stomach when Richard began to kiss him back, returning the light kisses. Jeffrey ran his hand through Richard’s hair, tugging his curls a little as their kisses intensified, and Richard moaned very softly.

“Lovely,” John whispered.

Jeffrey ignored him and tried to pretend that they weren’t being watched. He imagined that he and Richard were elsewhere, a place far away from the Cortez. He wanted to kiss Richard in a meadow. He could string a daisy chain over Richard’s long hair to make him look like a fae prince, and he would kiss him in the long grass. He wanted to kiss Richard on a beach and taste the salt of the ocean on his tanned skin. It would be blissful.

As he lost himself in a daydream, his kiss became more passionate, and Richard opened his mouth pliantly.

“He’s an eager little thing,” John said as he watched them intently, rubbing his hand over his hardening cock as he watched the men kiss.

Neither Jeffrey nor Richard paid him any attention as both were focused solely on each other. Jeffrey slipped his tongue into Richard’s mouth once more, tasting him, but the kiss was different. Richard didn’t bite and he didn’t try to turn away. He kissed him back, wrapping his tongue around Jeffrey’s, whimpering like a kitten. His small mewl made Jeffrey’s heart swell, and he held him closer, kissing him with all the passion he could muster as their tongues danced together. Richard leaned into him, and Jeffrey wrapped an arm around his waist, resting his hand on the small of his back.

“So very romantic,” John muttered, transfixed, as he crept towards the couple.

They didn’t notice that he had knelt beside them. John reached out a hand and placed it on Richard’s firm ass, groping him gently. It made him whine, and Jeffrey kissed him harder, pouring all his devotion into his embrace. The sight made John moan, and he stretched out his free hand to slide it down Richard’s front, feeling for his cock. When he felt his groin, he squeezed the young man, and Richard bucked his hips forwards, crying out against Jeffrey’s mouth.

Jeffrey pulled away and jumped when he saw John was so near to him. He was about to scold him when the man reached for him and placed his hand over his hard cock, gripping it tightly as he laughed at his embarrassment.

“You’re both sluts,” John mocked them. “Both of you.”

Jeffrey flung his hand away from his body, clutching Richard, who was trembling again. John said nothing and he leaned forward, hastily kissing Jeffrey. The blonde protested and pushed his harm, but John planted one hand on Richard’s ass and the other on Jeffrey’s shoulder, pressing against them hard. He fixed Jeffrey with a hard stare as though challenging him to fight him off. Neither spoke, but Richard gasped as his ass was groped once more.

“Get him off me,” he said furiously, looking to Jeffrey for help.

The blonde cupped his cheek his hand and stroked him kindly, all the while glaring at John.

“You got what you wanted,” he said. “Let us go. Get Richard out of the cuffs and let us go.”

“We were just getting to the fun part,” John whined, and his eyes glinted with mischief. “Let me have a turn.”

“What?” Jeffrey snapped.

“Let me have a turn,” John repeated, glancing down at Richard.

He shifted himself so he sat next to Jeffrey with his back against the wall. The blonde stared at him, wide-eyed, as John reached for Richard, but his chubby hands were batted away.

“No!” said Jeffrey. “We’ve done what you said! Let us go. Now.”

Tutting, John ignored him and yanked Richard out of Jeffrey’s gasp. Richard yelled in surprise and hurled Spanish insults at John, cursing him.

“Such a potty mouth on this bad little boy,” John teased, and he smiled at Jeffrey, who snarled at him.

“You fucking pig!” Richard shouted as he tried to kick and fight his way out of John’s hands.

John laughed, and pulled him closer, pressing his mouth against Richard’s, whose muffled cries made Jeffrey grimace. He allowed it for a moment, only to appease John. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Richard as he watched John force his tongue into his mouth. He bit down on Richard’s lip to try and force him to comply, and Jeffrey gave him a hard kick.

“Don’t hurt him or I’ll make sure you regret it,” he threatened, and he grabbed hold of John’s shirt collar for good measure.

He was ignored, and John grabbed Richard’s ass again, massaging his perky buttocks as he moaned. Jeffrey felt his own cock twitch, and he couldn’t resist touching himself over his pants. He gasped at the sensation and slowly began to rub himself. Another hand joined him, and John slid his hand over him, squeezing as Jeffrey rubbed harder.

“Get off,” he said weakly, but he didn’t even convince himself.

One had buried one hand in Richard’s hair to keep him in place as he invaded the man’s mouth, and he began to stroke Jeffery with the other, moving his hands aside to do the job himself.

Unable to deny that it felt good, Jeffrey let himself relax against the wall, and he looked down at Richard. He was getting no enjoyment out of the kiss, but he was willing to let John use his body. His eyes were closed but his mouth was slack. Jeffrey felt sorry for him, and it brought him to his senses.

“John, stop!” He ordered and grabbed his short hair to pull him away from Richard.

The younger man spluttered, and he coughed as he caught his breath. Richard looked about wildly and instantly crawled away from John, curling himself against Jeffrey, who immediately welcomed him into his arms. He pressed a kiss onto Richard’s forehead, and relief washed over him when he saw John reach into his back pocket.

“I’m getting bored anyway,” said John.

“Just hurry up and free him,” Jeffrey replied harshly, and he could feel himself blushing.

The key was produced, and John unlocked Richard’s handcuffs. Free at last, Richard snatched his hand away and began to rub his wrists. They were scratched and sore after pulling at the tight metal cuffs. The injuries weren’t deep, however, and he would heal in a matter of minutes.

“Are you alright?” Jeffrey asked, surprised that Richard hadn’t left his side or attempted to attack either man.

Richard nodded and quietly replied, “Yeah, whatever.”

John smirked at them both and stood to his feet, ruffling Richard’s hair on his way up.

“Make sure you fuck him for me, Jeff,” he grinned spitefully. “I wouldn’t waste the opportunity. Someone else might snatch him up if you don’t.”

“Fuck you, you piece of shit!” Richard cried, and he glowered up at John.

“Get out,” Jeffrey said sharply.

Laughing once more, John finally retreated, and Jeffrey and Richard were left on the elevator floor, both panting as they processed what happened.

He feared rejection, but Jeffrey pulled Richard closer again and held him to his chest, hoping to console him. The young man froze in his arms and Jeffrey waited to be insulted, punched, kicked, but he wasn’t met with violence. Instead, Richard nuzzled into his neck and allowed Jeffrey to hold him.

“Are you…alright?” Jeffrey asked tentatively.

He had no right to ask. He knew he was the one who assaulted Richard first.

“Yeah,” Richard mumbled into his shoulder. “I’m fine.”

Swallowing, Jeffrey felt dazed as he whispered, “You’re letting me hold you.”

“You’re warm,” Richard replied meekly. “And I’m tired. You tried to keep him away too.”

“I couldn’t keep myself away,” Jeffrey admitted, and he felt genuine shame at his actions.

He felt Richard shrug and he looked down at him, smiling when he saw that he had closed his eyes. His long, thick lashes were fanned out on his cheek, and he looked almost angelic. It was then that Jeffrey realised Richard had gotten blood all over the place. The blood that was on his hands and clothes had been spread all over the walls and the floor. It was all over Jeffrey too.

“Oh dear,” he said, and he nudged Richard. “You got blood all over the place. We’ll have to clean up because if Iris or Liz finds this, you’ll be in more trouble. March was already furious that you disobeyed him.”

Richard groaned and whinged, “Tell Miss Evers. It’s her job to clean anyway.”

“No,” Jeffrey corrected him. “We’ll clean it. I’ll help because…well, I owe you. You’ll clean it because it’s your mess.”

“It’s not my blood,” Richard mumbled. “Typical white people making the Mexican clean.”

“Don’t start with that. You’re the cause of the blood,” Jeffrey countered, and he nudged him again. “Come on, up. Let’s do it now before someone comes.”

He helped Richard to his feet, and he felt a rush of affection when Richard continued to lean on him. He escorted him out of the elevator, checking to make sure the coast was clear before he took Richard to the cleaning cupboard that was further down the hall. Passing a window, he saw that it was dark outside. It looked like it was the early hours of the morning. Surely, few guests would be awake at this time, so the elevator shouldn’t go anyway. Taking hold of Richard’s slender arm, he led him down the hallway. Opening the cleaning cupboard, he grabbed a bucket and mop and turned to pass them to Richard.

He was gone.

“Richard?” He called his name. No response.

He threw the bucket and mop to one side and stepped outside. There, he saw Richard walking away.

“Richard!” He hissed.

He kept on walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I appreciate every kudos and every comment that is left. It means the world!


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